KINGS  OF 


MISSOURI 


HUGH  PENDEXTER 


KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 


"Why  don't  you  come  to  help  me  in  ?" 


KINGS 
OF  THE  MISSOURI 


HUGH  PENDEXTER 

<iAuthor  of 
Red  Belts,  Gentlemen  of  the  North,  etc. 


Illustrated  by 
KENNETH  M.  BALLANTYNE 


INDIANAPOLIS 

THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright  1920 
The  Ridgway  Compahy 


Copyright  1921 
The  Bobbs-Merbill  Company 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


BRAUNWORTH  &  CO. 

BOOK   MANUFACTURERS 

BROOKLYN,   N.  Y. 


<](,! 

P3<J3 

JhJ. 

To 

That  Good  Friend  of  Mine 

HELEN 

My  Dear  Wife 

This  Book  Is  Affectionately 

Dedicated 

M528460 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  Sweethearts    and    Knives 1 

II  At    Tilton's    Place 24 

III  The    Duel 54 

IV  The   Battle   of   the   Bullies     ....  80 

V  PiNAUD,    THE   HUNTEE 108 

VI  Five  Walks         137 

VII  Blackfoot    and    Crow 167 

VIII  Along  the  River  Trail 191 

IX  In  the  Medicine  Lodge 223 

X  At  Fort  Union 242 

XI  The    Deschamps    Clan 262 

XII  Medicine  For  the  Lance 289 

XIII  Phinny   Comes    and    Goes 314 

XIV  Beaver!    Beaver! 335 

XV  Susette  in  the  Garden 355 


KINGS  OF  THE 
MISSOURI 

Chapter  I 

SWEETHEARTS  AND  KNIVES 

ST.  LOUIS  with  its  strange  hodge-podge  of 
humanity  bustled  feverishly  under  the  late 
April  sun.  The  permanent  inhabitants  were 
respectable  and  progressive,  yet  the  first  impres- 
sion a  stranger  was  apt  to  receive  was  an  atmos- 
phere of  recklessness,  if  not  lawlessness.  This 
because  the  city  with  its  seven  thousand  people 
was  the  center  of  the  fur  trade  and  the  temporary 
haven  for  desperate  characters  from  east  of  the 
Mississippi.  Located  a  scant  score  of  miles  below 
the  mouth  of  the  Missouri — the  white  man's  first 
path  to  the  Rockies  and  the  key  to  the  trans-Mis- 
sissippian  territory — the  city  yielded  nothing  to 

I 


2  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

Montreal  as  a  jumping-off  place  for  adventures 
of  all  sorts. 

The  explorations  of  Major  Zebulon  Pike,  Cap- 
tains Lewis  and  Clark,  and  Major  Stephen  H. 
Long,  were  from  one  to  two  decades  old  on  this 
particular  April  day,  and  yet  the  people  thus  far 
had  profited  but  scantily  from  the  printed  reports. 
There  was  soon  coming  a  time  when  a  mighty 
host,  impelled  by  a  national  impulse  to  expand, 
would  eagerly  consult  these  sleeping  authorities. 
But  St.  Louis  in  183 1  thought  and  talked  of  furs, 
not  of  peopling  a  continent.  In  the  streets  could 
be  seen  the  lounging  mountain  men  employed  by 
the  Rocky  Mountain  Fur  Company,  formed  by 
General  William  H.  Ashley  in  1822.  The  season 
before  these  same  men,  clad  in  greasy  and  worn 
garments  of  buckskin  and  buffalo  hide,  had 
brought  back  from  the  mountains  a  hundred 
thousand  dollars'  worth  of  beaver.  Men  of  the 
American  Fur  Company,  the  strongest  fur  organ- 
ization on  the  continent  with  the  exception  of  the 
Hudson's  Bay,  were  kept  at  their  permanent  posts 
throughout  the  valley  of  the  Missouri  and  did  not 
enjoy  the  license  of  leave  exhibited  by  Ashley's 
old  men. 

Traders  also  were  returning  from  Santa  Fe 


SWEETHEARTS  AND  KNIVES        3 

with  huge  profits.  Trade  with  the  Southwest, 
fur-harvesting  in  the  West  and  Northwest,  was 
the  order  of  the  day.  There  seems  to  be  no  record 
of  either  trader  or  trapper  seeking  weaUh  beneath 
the  soil.  The  gold  strikes  in  California,  Colo- 
rado, Idaho  and  Montana,  were  marching  down 
the  years  but  had  not  yet  arrived.  Fur  was  the 
king  of  the  western  country  and  beaver  was  the 
most  sought  of  all  fur-bearing  animals.  Beaver 
was  to  continue  holding  this  eminence  until  1833 
when  John  Jacob  Astor  in  London  would  write  to 
his  associates  in  the   great  A.  F.  C. — 

*Tt  appears  they  make  hats  of  silk  in  place  of 
beaver." 

But  beaver  was  readily  selling  from  seven  to 
eight  dollars  a  pound  this  April  day,  and  Ralph 
Lander  hurrying  to  his  work  in  the  A.  F.  C.  store 
never  dreamed  of  living  to  see  the  price  reduced. 
In  1 83 1  there  was  every  reason  to  believe  the 
price  must  go  up  as  the  supply  dwindled.  The 
Rocky  Mountain  Fur  Company  specialized  in 
beaver.  The  Hudson^s  Bay  Company,  cut  off 
from  a  profitable  trade  in  robes  because  of  port- 
age charges,  greedily  took  all  it  could  get.  The 
A.  F.  C.  on  the  Missouri  and  its  tributaries  traded 
for  all  pelts,  but  made  a  drive  for  the  dam-build- 


4  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

ers.  So  neither  Ralph  Lander  nor  any  other  man 
in  the  year  1831  could  know  what  a  blow  inven- 
tive genius  was  to  deal  the  beaver  trade  two  years 
hence. 

Lander  knew  changes  must  take  place,  but  he 
could  vision  nothing  to  prevent  him  from  becom- 
ing a  mountain  man,  a  king  of  the  Missouri.  His 
ideal  was  Ashley,  the  implacable  rival  of  the  A.  F. 
C.  It  was  Ashley  who  brought  romance  to  the 
fur  trade  and  set  a  new  pace  by  doing  away  with 
fixed  posts  and  by  sending  large  bodies  of  trap- 
pers into  the  beaver  country  to  trap  and  trade. 
With  Ashley  had  been  associated  such  men  as 
William  L.  and  Milton  Sublette,  whose  grand- 
father is  credited  with  slaying  Tecumseh  at  the 
battle  of  the  Thames,  James  P.  Beckwourth  and 
James  Bridger.  The  A.  F.  C,  clinging  to  the 
traditions  and  practises  of  the  British  companies, 
was  hard  put  to  meet  the  growing  opposition  of 
these  celebrated  mountain  men.  Diluted  alcohol 
was  being  exchanged — contrary  to  law  of  the 
country — for  buffalo  robes  at  the  rate  of  a  pint 
for  a  robe. 

Ashley^s  tactics,  followed  by  his  successors,  did 
not  pivot  on  the  efficiency  of  the  Indian.  His 
own  trappers  caught  the  furs.  While  the  A.  F. 
C.  could  easily  retain  a  monopoly  of  the  robe 


SWEETHEARTS  AND  KNIVES        5 

trade  it  found  itself  worried  because  of  the  rich 
packs  taken  out  of  the  country  by  the  opposition. 

Both  the  A.  F.  C.  and  the  opposition  were  one 
in  not  desiring  immigration.  The  opposition, 
however,  was  not  concerned  with  any  problems  of 
placating  and  conserving  the  Indian.  One 
depended  for  trade  on  the  good-will  and  efforts 
of  the  Indian,  the  other  went  in  and  secured  pelts 
despite  the  Indian. 

Lander  was  not  given  to  analysis.  He  knew 
the  steamboat  had  come  to  remain  a  fixture  and 
that  the  days  of  the  flatboat  were  over.  He  knew 
the  keelboat  still  persisted  as  a  great  factor  in  the 
upper  Missouri  trade,  but  he  did  not  realize  it 
would  have  followed  the  flatboat  long  before  his 
day  had  not  the  flimsy  structure  of  the  steam  craft 
made  steamboat  travel  hazardous.  He  worked 
for  the  inexorable  A.  F.  C,  a  huge  and  smoothly 
running  machine,  and  he  admired  the  privateer- 
ing of  Ashley's  men.  He  credited  the  A.  F.  C. 
with  eliminating  British  influence  in  the  Indian 
country.  He  should  have  given  the  credit  to  the 
advent  of  the  American  steamboat  What  neither 
State,  Church,  nor  Army  could  effect  had  been 
brought  about  by  superstition.  The  Indian  had 
decided  that  those  who  used  a  "fire  canoe'*  must 
be  more  mighty  than  those  who  did  not. 


6  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

With  epochal  changes  shaping  about  him  Lan- 
der's thoughts  remained  those  of  youth  in  spring- 
time. The  most  important  thing  in  the  world  for 
him  to  think  about  was  little  Susette  Parker,  only 
child  of  gruff  "Hurry-Up"  Parker,  a  valuable  cog 
in  the  A.  F.  C/s  St.  Louis  machinery.  The  girl 
had  been  Lander's  inspiration  and  undoing.  She 
had  filled  him  with  ambitions  and  had  robbed 
him  of  the  power  to  leave  the  town  and  join  a 
mountain  expedition  and  prove  his  worth.  In- 
stead of  carving  out  the  future  her  love  must 
demand,  he  remained  slave  to  the  present  and 
continued  packing  goods  for  men  who  were  to 
live  the  life. 

When  the  opposition  came  back  from  the 
mountains  and  the  A.  F.  C.  headquarters  were 
blue  with  profanely  expressed  rage,  Lander 
secretly  rejoiced  at  their  good  fortune  and  felt 
the  thrill  of  youth,  lusting  for  the  unusual.  Even 
the  pack-mules,  skinned  from  withers  to  tail  from 
carrying  two  hundred  pounds  for  two  thousand 
miles,  urged  him  to  follow  their  back  trail. 
Whenever  an  express  came  down  from  Fort 
Union — best  built  west  of  the  Mississippi  with 
the  possible  exception  of  Bent's  on  the  Arkansas 
' — and  told  of  Indian  troubles,  especially  of  the 


SWEETHEARTS  AND  KNIVES        7 

undying  hatred  of  the  Blackfeet  for  the  whites, 
he  burned  to  take  a  pack  and  gun  and  steal  into 
the  hostile  country  and  try  his  luck. 

When  self-respect  reproached  him  for  his  lack 
of  purpose  he  defended  himself  by  declaring  that 
no  sane  man  would  leave  a  Susette  when  she 
urged  him  to  stay.  Susette  was  spoiled  into  ask- 
ing for  everything  she  wanted.  She  wanted  Lan- 
der and  would  not  listen  to  his  trying  his  luck  in 
the  Indian  country.  This  eased  his  conscience, 
although  reason  told  him  he  might  lose  her  for  all 
time  because  he  was  not  strong  enough  to  lose 
her  for  a  season  or  two. 

Sometimes  the  fantastic  optimism  of  young 
years  prompted  him  to  scheme  immediate  mar- 
riage, to  be  followed  by  venturing  into  the  land 
of  fear  and  fable.  His  morning  greeting  from 
Hurry-Up  Parker  always  quickly  dispelled  such 
nonsense.  Parker  was  hard-headed  and  damn- 
ably practical.  The  caste  of  the  A.  F.  C.  was  in 
his  blood;  he  would  never  give  his  girl  to  an 
engage.  He  might  marry  an  Indian  woman  him- 
self, if  he  were  posted  up-country,  but  no  hired 
hand,  a  mere  laborer,  should  dare  raise  his  head 
high  enough  to  glimpse  Susette's  pert  eyes. 

Now   that   the  young  people's   intimacy  had 


8  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

progressed  to  the  exchange  of  love  vows  Lander 
often  felt  uncomfortable  when  he  paused  to  won- 
der what  the  stern  parent  would  say  and  do,  once 
he  learned  the  truth.  So  the  affair  had  made  him 
sly  and  secretive.  His  work  included  the  running 
of  many  errands  and  frequently  he  was  sent  to  the 
Parker  home  on  Pine  Street.  Other  times  he 
made  errands  there  when  he  knew  Parker  was 
not  about.  Only  Susette  and  himself  were  in  the 
secret,  and  yet  there  was  one  man  in  the  store 
who  had  taken  to  staring  at  him  laughingly  every 
time  he  came  back  from  an  errand. 

"IVe  got  to  strike  out,"  he  groaned  half  aloud 
as  he  slowed  his  steps  on  nearing  the  big  ware- 
house and  store.  "That  Malcom  Phinny  looks 
too  knowing.  He'll  be  telling  things  before 
Susette  and  I  are  ready.  I  must  get  up-river  and 
work  up  to  some  position.  No  more  putting  off. 
I  must." 

He  had  said  this  before.  He  was  very  serious 
now,  and  yet  the  sight  of  a  familiar  figure 
approaching  made  him  smile  and  forget  love  and 
old  Parker.  It  was  Jim  Bridger,  head  partner 
now  in  the  Rocky  Mountain  Fur  Company.  He 
stood  better  than  six  feet,  raw-boned  and  straight 
and  of  powerful  frame.    His  brown  hair  was  ver}^ 


SWEETHEARTS  AND  KNIVES        9 

thick  and  worn  to  his  shoulders,  and  his  gray  eyes 
were  forever  taking  inventories  as  he  swung  his 
head  from  side  to  side.  Lander  smiled  at  recol- 
lecting some  tall  stories  Bridger  was  fond  of 
telling. 

"Getting  ready  to  go  out,  Mister  Bridger?" 
politely  asked  Lander  as  Bridger  shot  him  a  sharp 
glance  and  nodded  curtly. 

"Lander  of  the  A.  F.  C?  I  remember  you. 
Your  people  would  mighty  well  like  to  put  a 
snag  in  my  way." 

"I  wouldn't.  I  always  wish  you  luck,"  was  the 
honest  reply. 

Bridger  smiled  good-naturedly. 

"Then  I  don't  mind  saying  we're  gitting  away 
almost  at  once.  An'  a  young,  strapping  feller 
like  you  oughter  be  doing  something  better'n 
sticking  round  this  place  an'  standing  behind  a 
counter.  Why  don't  you  git  Parker  to  send  you 
up-country  where  you  can  show  your  mettle  ?" 

Lander  was  almost  inclined  to  resent  the  tone 
and  question,  for  Bridger  was  only  twenty-seven 
years  old  and  not  much  his  senior.  Bridger,  how- 
ever, spoke  as  a  man  of  vast  experience  talking  to 
a  child. 


10  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"I'd  mighty  well  like  to  see  that  Yellowstone 
country  you  talk  about,"  said  Lander. 

"Fools  round  here  think  I'm  making  it  up/* 
snorted  Bridger.  "But  I've  seen  all  I've  told 
about.  Hot  water  spouting  seventy  feet  high. 
Springs  of  water  so  hot  you  can  cook  meat  in  'em. 
An'  a  cave  where  the  Injuns  git  their  vermilion." 

Lander  believed  he  was  evening  up  the  moun- 
taineer's air  of  superiority,  and  he  solemnly 
repeated : 

"I'd  mighty  well  like  to  see  those  sights." 

"You  never  will  by  sticking  round  here." 

And  with  a  jerk  of  his  head  the  discoverer  of 
Bridger's  Pass,  of  South  Pass  and  the  Great  Salt 
Lake,  passed  on  his  way. 

Lander  resumed  his  smile,  then  upbraided  him- 
self. He  never  would  possess  the  wealth  at  twen- 
ty-seven that  Bridger  did.  And  no  number  of 
years  could  bring  him  Bridger's  influence  and 
power.  The  man  might  tell  some  whopping  big 
lies  about  the  Yellowstone  country,  but  the  fact 
remained  that  he  had  more  intimate  knowledge 
about  the  Rocky  Mountains  than  any  man  of  his 
day.  As  a  guide  and  reader  of  signs  he  was 
superb.  He  was  held  in  high  esteem  by  the  In- 
dians.     Best  of  all   he   had  worked   up   from 


SWEETHEARTS  AND  KNIVES       ii 

extreme  poverty.  All  St.  Lowis  knew  how  he  and 
his  sister  were  left  orphans  when  he  was  but 
ten  years  old,  and  how  at  that  tender  age  he  had 
bought  a  ferryboat  and  supported  the  two. 

"If  he  wanted  to  marry  a  girl  like  Susette  I 
reckon  Hurry-Up  Parker  would  feel  mighty 
proud/*  gloomily  concluded  Lander. 

Then  he  became  objective  and  hastily  studied 
the  big  storehouse.  He  was  late  and  Hurry-Up 
Parker  would  never  forgive  tardiness.  But  from 
what  Susette  had  said  the  evening  before  he  knew 
Parker  was  entertaining  the  Fort  Union  bour- 
geois, and  this  would  mean  an  all-night  affair 
with  many  drinks.  Therefore  Parker  would  not 
show  up  until  late  afternoon. 

He  sidled  up  to  the  big  doorway  and  ducked  in. 
The  first  man  he  saw  was  Parker,  his  face 
screwed  up  most  savagely.  Lander  wondered 
how  so  vicious-looking  a  man  could  be  the  father 
of  the  perfect  Susette.  He  felt  deeply  embar- 
rassed and  not  a  little  uneasy  as  Parker  continued 
glaring  at  him  over  a  bale  of  goods. 

Hurrying  to  the  end  of  the  store,  where  lay  his 
tasks,  he  met  Malcom  Phinny,  a  heavily  built, 
dark-faced  fellow,  handsome  in  an  Indian  sort  of 
a  way  and  several  years  his  senior.     Phinny  had 


12  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

worked  a  season  at  Cabanne*s  Post  and  had 
brought  down  the  trade  of  the  Pawnees  on  the 
Loup  Fork  of  the  Platte.  He  was  working  for 
promotion  and  was  scheduled  to  get  it  this  season. 
He  gave  himself  airs  accordingly  and,  having  wit- 
nessed Lander's  tardy  arrival  and  the  boss'  irrita- 
tion, he  took  pains  to  raise  his  voice  to  inform: 

"Didn't  know  as  you'd  be  here,  Lander,  so  I 
finished  sorting  out  the  beads  and  small  stuff  for 
you." 

"Thanks  for  nothing,"  growled  Lander. 

"What  did  you  do  to  make  a  night  of  it?" 
chuckled  Phinny. 

"Oh,  shut  up!" 

Phinny's  dark  face  flushed  although  he  con- 
tinued to  smile. 

"I  beg  your  pardon.  I  should  not  question  my 
betters.  After  the  wedding  and  after  you've  been 
taken  in  partner,  I  hope  you'll  find  room  for  me 
somewhere." 

Lander  turned  in  fury,  then  rocked  back  on  his 
heels  to  find  himself  confronting  Parker.  The 
latter's  unexpected  appearance  from  behind  a  pile 
of  blankets  also  had  a  strong  effect  on  Phinny, 
who  glided  toward  the  other  end  of  the  store. 

"What  did  he  mean  about  weddings  and  being 


SWEETHEARTS  AND  KNIVES      13 

partner?"  demanded  Parker,  his  eyes  two  black 
streaks  between  his  lowered  lids. 

"Lord,  sir!  I  don't  know.  Just  some  of  his 
beastly  nonsense,"  replied  Lander. 

"But  if  nonsense  why  should  it  make  you  mad? 
You  planning  to  get  married  ?" 

"Good  land — no,  sir !  That  is — Vm  in  no  posi- 
tion to  get  married." 

"I  should  sa)^  not!  You  were  up  to  my  house 
yesterday  ?" 

"I — I  was  so  bold  as  to  drop  in  during  the 
evening,"  faltered  Lander. 

"You  were  so  bold,  eh?  Remember  this — 
don't  be  so  bold  again.  When  I  want  you  there 
ril  make  an  errand  and  send  some  one  else.  You 
remember  you're  nothing  but  a  scrub  of  hired 
help,  an  engage,  a  man  who  does  the  odds  and 
ends.  Out  of  hours  your  range  is  down  on  the 
water-front  until  you've  shown  you've  got  some 
guts.  You  come  swelling  in  here  half  an  hour 
late  as  if  you  was  one  of  the  company.  That 
won't  go  with  Hurry-Up  Parker  again.  Now  git 
your  nose  to  your  work  and  keep  it  there.'* 

He  was  Susette's  father.  Lander  believed 
Susette  loved  him.  And  her  father  could  talk  to 
him  like  this!     He  turned  red,  then  white,  and 


14  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

assailed  his  task  to  keep  his  thoughts  from  mur- 
der. He  could  feel  Parker's  hard  eyes  boring  into 
the  nape  of  his  neck.  It  seemed  as  if  he  worked 
an  hour  with  the  boss'  gaze  malignantly  following 
his  every  move. 

At  last  he  heard  Parker's  steps  receding.  He 
twisted  his  head  and  caught  a  glimpse  of  Phinny, 
half  doubled  with  merriment  behind  a  pyramid  of 
whisky  casks.  Lander's  heart  ached  with  hate  of 
the  man.  Parker  had  some  excuse — he  had  been 
drinking  all  night  and  he  was  the  father  of  the 
incomparable  Susette.  It  was  his  nasty  way  to  be 
always  nagging  the  men.  He  gloried  in  his  nick- 
name. But  Phinny  was  free  to  be  hated.  He  was 
ever  trying  to  lift  himself  by  stepping  on  the 
necks  of  his  mates.  Many  of  the  men  were  con- 
vinced he  carried  tales  to  Parker. 

"What  made  him  think  I  was  up  at  the  house 
last  evening?"  Lander  asked  himself  as  he 
slowed  up  his  w^ork  and  rested  a  hand  on  a  trade- 
ax  and  was  tempted  to  hurl  it  at  the  grinning 
face.  "Phinny  knew  somehow  that  I  was  there 
and  he  let  it  drop  this  morning.  Curse  him !  He's 
got  all  the  ways  of  a  Red  River  half-breed." 

For  the  rest  of  the  morning  Phinny  kept  out  of 
his  way.    When  it  was  near  the  noon  hour  Lan- 


SWEETHEARTS  AND  KNIVES       15 

der  saw  the  men  near  the  "door  bustling  to  one 
side,  bowing  and  scraping  in  an  extravagant  man- 
ner. Twice  before  Susette  had  come  to  the  store, 
and  her  arrival  had  been  greeted  by  just  such 
clumsy  attempts  to  do  homage  to  the  pretty 
daughter  of  a  domineering  boss.  Ordinarily  Lan- 
der would  have  marked  it  a  red-letter  day  and 
been  filled  with  joy;  now  he  glanced  uneasily 
toward  the  door  marked  "Office"  and  prayed 
Parker  might  not  emerge. 

Then  came  a  flutter  of  youth  and  beauty  and 
Miss  Susette  was  standing  inside  the  door,  her 
skirts  pulled  aside  to  escape  contamination  from 
a  small  mountain  of  whisky  casks  destined  to  be 
smuggled  by  Fort  Leavenworth  for  the  Sioux  and 
Assiniboin  trade.  Lander  hoped  she  would  pass 
into  the  office. 

She  spied  him  and  with  a  little  cry  of  discovery 
came  tripping  down  the  lane  formed  by  the 
heaped-up  trade  goods  and  supplies. 

"Why  didn't  you  come  to  help  me  in?''  she 
sternly  rebuked.  "Two  of  the  men  had  to  lift  me 
up." 

"Not  a  hard  job  for  one  man,"  he  said,  grin- 
ning ruefully  at  her  slight,  dainty  figure  and 
again  marveling  how  the  old  bear  could  be  her 


i6  KIN,GS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

father.  "If  you  want  to  see  your  father  he  is  in 
the  office." 

"I  don't  want  to  see  him,"  she  coolly  informed. 
"I  saw  him  this  morning  and  he  was  very  cross. 
Can't  you  come  outside  where  we  can  talk  ?  This 
place  smells  so  of  things." 

"Susette,  I  don't  dare  budge.  I  was  late. 
Your  father  mounted  me  like  a  wildcat.  I  can't 
even  talk  in  here.  If  you'll  walk  down  by  Tra- 
deau's  house  at  eight  o'clock  this  evening  I'll  have 
much  to  tell  you." 

"Walk  by  Jean  Tradeau's  house?"  she 
repeated,  much  puzzled.  "Why  not  see  me  at  my 
house?" 

"I'll  tell  you  this  evening." 

"But  tell  me  now!"  and  a  maternal  glitter 
quickened  her  gaze. 

"It's  like  this " 

He  halted  and  cast  an  apprehensive  glance  over 
his  shoulder.  Phinny's  voice  was  loudly 
informing : 

"She  was  here  just  a  minute  ago,  Mister  Par- 
ker. I  thought  she  was  right  behind  me  when  I 
announced  her.  Now  she's  gone.  No,  there  she 
is  chatting  with  Lander." 

Lander  felt  his  heart  slipping.    To  get  the  best 


SWEETHEARTS  AND  KNIVES      17^ 

of  physical  fear  was  easy  enough;  one  had  only 
to  buckle  down  and  come  to  grips  with  the  cause. 
But  the  anticipation  of  being  put  to  shame  before 
the  girl  and  by  her  father  fairly  sickened  him. 
Susette,  not  understanding  in  the  least,  was  rather 
provoked  that  her  father  should  intrude  on  the 
scene.    She  affected  not  to  see  him. 

Parker  bore  down  upon  them  and  unceremoni- 
ously seized  the  girl  by  the  arm  and  without  a 
word  led  her  to  the  door. 

"But,  papa,  I  was  talking  with  Mr.  Lander,** 
she  indignantly  protested. 

Ignoring  her,  Parker  called  out  to  a  servant 
and  a  frightened  colored  woman  bobbed  her  head 
in  the  door,  her  lips  broadly  smiling,  her  eyes 
wdde  with  fear. 

"You,  Maime,"  hoarsely  growled  Parker.  "If 
your  mistress  ever  comes  here  again  without  my 
telling  her  to  come  Fll  sell  you  down-river.'* 

With  that  he  lifted  the  vision  in  lace  and  rib- 
bons down  from  the  high  door  and  turned  back 
to  speak  with  Lander. 

Lander  had  suffered  the  worst  and  now  stared 
at  his  employer  sullenly.  Parker  halted  a  few 
feet  from  him  and  began : 

"So  it*s  true,  eh  ?    I  couldn't  believe  it  at  first. 


i8  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

You're  chasing  my  little  gal,  eh?     I  thought  it 

was  a  lie  when  he  told  me " 

"Meaning  when  that  puppy  of  a  Phinny  told 
you,"  hotly  broke  in  Lander.  "I  haven't  chased 
your  girl.  I've  known  Miss  Susette  ever  since  I 
came  to  work  here  two  years  ago.  You've  sent 
me  to  the  house  every  few  days.  You  knew  we 
met  and  talked." 

"Well,  you  won't  call  again.  Now  git  out  of 
here.  You're  through.  You're  not  only  through, 
but  the  A.  F.  C.  will  see  you  don't  git  any  work  in 
St.  Louis,  except  it's  nigger's  work  on  the  levee." 

"The  A.  F.  C.  may  stop  me  getting  work,  per- 
haps. I  won't  call  at  your  house  till  you  ask  me," 
replied  Lander,  slipping  on  his  coat  and  picking 
up  his  hat. 

"I'll  ask  you  to  call  when  the  Missouri  flows 
from  the  Mississip'  into  the  Rocky  Mountains. 
Git  your  pay  at  the  office  now.  I  don't  want 
you  coming  in  here  again." 

"God  forbid!"  exclaimed  Lander,  hastening 
blindly  into  the  office. 

When  his  mind  cleared  Lander  found  himself 
down  by  the  old  Chouteau  Pond.  From  the  time 
he  left  Parker  he  could  remember  nothing  of  hav- 


SWEETHEARTS  AND   KNIVES       19 

ing  procured  his  pay  although  he  found  it  in  his 
pocket  and  right  to  a  penny.  He  had  no  recol- 
lection of  where  he  had  walked  or  by  what  route 
he  had  come  to  the  pond.  He  could  recall  but 
one  thing,  and  that  was  Phinny^s  hoarse  bleat  of 
derision  as  he  left  the  storehouse. 

"I  have  made  the  breath  come  hard  trying  to 
catch  you,"  spoke  up  a  gentle  voice  at  his  elbow. 

He  turned  and  his  face  lighted  as  he  beheld  the 
frail  figure  of  a  man  with  snow-white  hair  and 
white  mustaches.  It  was  Etienne  Clair,  an  old 
and  very  eccentric  Frenchman  who  roomed  near 
him  on  upper  Market  Street. 

"I'm  in  a  devil  of  a  mess,  Papa  Clair,"  he 
groaned,  feeling  as  free  to  crave  sympathy  as  if 
the  ancient  had  been  a  woman. 

"I  followed  you  many  streets.  I  thought  you 
mad.  The  devil's  to  pay?  Then  there  must  be 
work  for  the  knife.  We  will  fix  it  together!" 
cried  Clair,  speaking  his  English  with  scarcely  a 
trace  of  accent.  'T  have  lived  long  on  the  river 
and  at  the  foot  of  the  river.  I  have  seen  many 
troubles  eased  with  the  knife.  But  never  have  I 
been  so  glad " 

"The  knife  will  hardly  do  in  this  case," 
morosely  broke  in  Lander. 


20  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"Not  do?"  squealed  the  Frenchman,  his  arms 
and  hands  violently  repudiating  such  heresy. 
"Have  I  not  taught  you  the  etiquette  of  the  knife? 
Is  there  a  young  blood  in  St.  Louis,  in  New  Or- 
leans, who  knows  it  better  ?  And  behold,  you  say 
it  will  not  doT' 

"Papa  Clair,  your  heart  is  as  white  as  your 
hair.    I've  quit  the  A.  F.  C.    Made  to  quit '* 

"Good!" 

"Hurry-Up  Parker  discharged  me  without  a 
second's  notice." 

"Descendant  of  a  pig !  He  shall  be  insulted  by 
you  and  challenge  you.  I  will  appear  for  you. 
Weapons?  Knives.  He  is  not  so  old  he  can 
hide  behind  his  age  and  refuse  to  meet  you." 

"Impossible!  Even  if  I  wanted  to  fight  him 
I  couldn't." 

"Holy  blue!  I — I  do  not  understand,  M'sieu 
Lander.  I,  Etienne  Clair,  walk  in  darkness, 
m'sieu.  I  have  taught  you  the  knife.  I  have 
made  for  it  the  scabbard  for  you  to  wear  inside 
your  boot.  Knowing  what  I  have  taught  you, 
wearing  the  blade  I  gave  you,  you  can  look  the 
devil  in  the  face  and  tell  him  to  go  home  or  have 
his  tail  cut  off.  And  behold!  You  say  you  can 
not  demand  your  safety  from  a  low-down  Indian- 


SWEETHEARTS  AND  KNIVES      21 

trader.  God's  mercy !  M'sieu  Lander,  If  you  can 
not  explain " 

"You  don't  understand!"  choked  Lander. 
"The  girl,  his  girl — Susette.  But  I  mustn't  men- 
tion names." 

"Now  God  is  good!  It  is  unsaid.  No  name 
has  been  spoken!"  cried  the  little  Frenchman, 
sweeping  off  his  shabby  fur  cap  and  bowing  low 
to  some  Imaginary  princess.  "Your  high  heart 
does  you  great  honor.  Your  knife  will  sing  the 
sweeter  when  we  find  honest  work  for  it  to  do. 
The  divinity  of  woman  must  always  protect  her 
men  from  her  lover." 

"There  are  three  things  I  must  do  at  once," 
mumbled  Lander.  "I  must  get  work.  Parker 
says  the  A.  F.  C.  will  stop  me  getting  work  in  St. 
Louis  unless  I  work  on  the  levee." 

"His  father  was  a  liar !  There  is  always  much 
work  for  honest  men.    Go  on." 

"I  must  settle  my  score  with  Phinny.  He  has 
told  tales  and  set  Parker  against  me." 

"Surely  he  shall  be  paid.    The  third  ?" 

"I  must  see — I  mention  no  names." 

"Of  course.  Etienne  Clair  understands."  And 
again  the  low  bow  till  the  cap  brushed  the  dirt. 
"It  is  delicate,  eh?    Now  a  message.    Behold,  I 


22  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

can  carry  a  message  with  eyes  that  turn  in  and 
see  nothing,  with  a  tongue  to  bring  an  answer 
which  my  ears  do  not  hear." 

"I  have  arranged  for  meeting  her  unless  she 
is  kept  in  the  house." 

"She  shall  not  be  kept  in.  I  will  enter  from  the 
rear  and  release  her  and " 

''No,  no!  I  believe  she  will  meet  me.  The 
hour  is  early  as  it  was  fixed  before  I  knew  what 
was  to  happen  to  me.  I  shall  walk  by  the  scholar 
Tradeau's  house  on  Pine  Street  at  eight  o'clock." 

"Most  good!  Then  this  scoundrel  Phinny? 
You  can  look  for  work  to-morrow  but  you  should 
look  for  him  to-night." 

"I  must  find  him  to-night  if  I  would  sleep 
to-night." 

"Brave  spirit!  I  will  go  with  you  when  you 
seek  him." 

Lander  pondered  for  a  moment,  then  said : 

"Be  in  Tilton's  drinking-place  at  nine.  Wait 
for  me  until  ten.  He  goes  there.  IVe  heard  him 
speak  of  the  place  often." 

"A  vile  place.  Scum  and  cutthroats.  I  will 
wait  for  you." 

They   separated  and   Lander   returned   to   his 


SWEETHEARTS  AND  KNIVES      23 

room  to  brood  and  rage  until  the  soft  twilight 
hour  was  come. 

He  dressed  in  his  best  but  looked  forlorn  for  a 
lover  as  he  made  for  the  door  and  halted  to  stare 
at  a  plain  leather  scabbard  on  the  wall.  He 
slowly  took  it  down.  It  was  made  to  go  inside  his 
boot,  and  from  it  he  drew  the  Frenchman's  gift 
knife,  a  wonderfully  effective  weapon  in  the 
hands  of  a  master.  It  was  ground  to  a  razor's 
edge,  wath  a  weight  and  solidity  of  haft  and  a 
length  of  blade  that  satisfied  all  exactions  made 
upon  it.  It  was  a  queer  thing  for  a  lover  to  take 
to  his  tryst,  yet  he  pulled  up  his  trousers  leg  and 
slipped  the  scabbard  inside  his  boot. 

His  act  was  partly  prompted  by  his  affection 
for  Papa  Clair.  He  knew  he  was  facing  a  crisis, 
and  somehow  it  strengthened  him  to  have  with 
him  a  token  from  one  he  loved.  Papa  Clair  had  a 
superstitious  regard  for  his  knives.  Lander  had 
known  him  for  two  years  and  perhaps  had  ab- 
sorbed some  of  his  fancies.  The  old  man  had 
made  him  master  of  the  knife;  only  there  was 
none  in  all  St.  Louis  outside  the  teacher  who 
suspected  the  fact. 


Chapter  II 


AT  TILTON's  place 


npURNING  In  from  Main  to  Pine  Street 
*  Lander  loitered  along  until  he  reached  a 
position  under  some  garden  bushes  which  rose 
high  above  a  fence  and  afforded  a  deep  splotch 
of  shadow.  Two  houses  below  was  the  home  of 
Jean  Baptiste  Tradeau  who  tutored  the  youth  of 
St.  Louis.  The  lover's  gaze  was  directed 
through  the  dusk  over  the  way  he  had  come,  for 
the  Parker  home  was  beyond  the  intersection  of 
Main  Street,  and  it  lacked  fully  fifteen  minutes  of 
the  hour. 

When  he  halted  by  the  bushes  he  had  the  street 
to  himself  but  now  he  heard  steps  and  the  low 
murmur  of  voices  from  the  direction  of  the  Tra- 
deau house.  He  gave  these  sounds  no  attention, 
as  he  was  now  glimpsing  a  slim,  erect  figure 
gowned  in  white,  passing  through  the  shaft  of 
light  of  a  window  up  the  street.    His  heart  began 

24 


AT   TILTON'S   PLACE  25 

beating  rapidly  for  he  knew  Stisette  would  be  at 
his  side  in  another  minute,  and  he  tried  to  arrange 
his  words  for  a  coherent  explanation.  She  would 
be  deeply  grieved  and  very  indignant  once  she 
learned  what  had  happened. 

Then  the  steps  behind  grew  louder.  Two  men 
iwere  passing  him  and  one  of  them  laughed.  Lan- 
Her  all  but  attracted  their  attention,  for  there  was 
no  one  who  laughed  like  Malcom  Phinny. 

"It  wa'n't  any  of  my  business,  mebbe,  and  yet 
I  reckoned  it  was  a  bit,  seeing  as  how  you're  the 
boss,''  Phinny  was  saying,  thus  establishing  the 
identity  of  the  second  figure  as  that  of  Hurry-Up 
Parker.  "I'd  known  for  a  long  time  he  was  shin- 
ing up  to  Miss  Susette." 

"You  had  ?  Then  why  the  devil  didn't  you  tell 
me?"  snarled  Parker. 

Phinny's  apologetic  answer  was  lost  on  Lander 
as  the  two  were  now  drawing  away  from  him. 
He  was  mightily  concerned  over  what  would  hap- 
pen in  the  next  few  rods,  when  the  two  men 
must  meet  the  girl.  Luck  was  badly  against  him. 
Had  he  named  any  other  meeting-place  there 
would  not  have  been  this  interruption. 

Slipping  along  the  fence  he  took  after  the  two 
men  for  a  bit,  then  shifted  across  the  walk  and 


26  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

stood  behind  a  tree.  Susette  was  now  discerni- 
ble in  the  gloaming,  a  little  white  patch  against 
the  gathering  darkness.  She  took  the  outside  of 
the  walk  and  would  have  passed  her  father  un- 
recognized had  not  Phinny,  falling  behind  his 
employer  a  few  steps,  thrust  out  his  head  to  peer 
imprudently  into  her  face. 

"Why,  Miss  Susette!  Ain't  you  lost?"  he 
laughingly  greeted. 

Parker  halted  and  swung  on  his  heel, 
demanding,  "You  out  walking  alone  ?" 

"Good  evening,  papa,"  she  pertly  responded. 
"It's  perfectly  proper  to  walk  alone." 

"It's  also  proper  for  you  to  walk  with  your 
father.    Take  my  arm." 

"But  I  wanted  to  go  down  the  street  a  bit.  I've 
been  in  the  house  for  hours." 

"Can't  you  get  air  enough  on  your  own 
porch  ?"  grumbled  Parker. 

"That's  not  exercise." 

"Exercise,  eh?  Very  well.  Be  back  by  nine. 
Phinny,  you  keep  my  daughter  company.  There 
are  too  many  rough  characters  loose  in  this  town 
for  a  young  girl  to  be  out  alone." 

"Yes,  sir.  Glad  to  look  after  Miss  Susette," 
eagerly  replied  Phinny. 


AT    TILTON'S    PLACE  27 

"You  needn't  put  yourself  out,  Mr.  Phinny," 
shortly  spoke  up  the  girl.  "If  I  can't  stroll  to  the 
end  of  the  street  without  a  guard  I'll  go  back 
home." 

Although  accustomed  to  having  her  own  way 
with  her  surly  father  there  were  times  when  he 
enforced  the  law  and  when  she  knew  it  would  be 
useless  to  rebel.  Such  was  the  occasion  now ;  and 
when  he  commanded  "Back  home  it  is  then,"  she 
dutifully  took  his  arm  and  skipped  along  beside 
him.  When  they  passed  through  the  next  shaft 
of  light  the  disgruntled  lover  saw  she  was  twist- 
ing her  head  to  look  in  his  direction.  On  the 
other  side  of  Parker  was  Phinny,  and  he  too  was 
glancing  back. 

For  a  moment  he  blamed  her  for  not  making 
more  of  an  effort  to  keep  the  appointment,  then 
remembered  she  knew  nothing  of  his  encounter 
with  her  father.  She'd  console  herself  with  think- 
ing that  the  morrow  would  see  him  at  the  house. 

"And  I  can't  go  to  her,"  he  groaned,  moving 
slowly  away  toward  Third  Street.  "After  all,  I 
reckon  I'll  have  to  send  Papa  Clair  with  a  note. 
That's  it.  He  shall  take  a  note  and  she  can  meet 
me  somewhere.  But,  that  Phinny!  One  would 
think  he  was  a  member  of  the  family." 


28  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

An  hour  later  Lander  was  at  the  Washington 
Avenue  store  of  Sublette  and  Company,  or  the 
Rocky  Mountain  Fur  Company,  which  was  to 
give  the  American  Fur  Company  the  strongest 
opposition  It  had  ever  contended  against.  Ordi- 
narily the  store  would  have  been  closed,  but  Lan- 
der hoped  the  work  of  getting  up  the  new  equip- 
ment for  the  expedition  about  to  start  for  the 
mountains  would  necessitate  its  being  kept  open. 
Nor  was  he  disappointed,  for  although  the  store 
was  dark  there  was  a  glimmer  of  light  at  one  end. 
Making  his  way  to  the  office  entrance  he  looked 
through  the  window  and  saw  Jim  Bridger  busily 
checking  up  some  lists. 

*'Come  in  if  you  have  to,"  rumbled  Bridger's 
voice  after  Lander  had  rapped  for  the  second 
time. 

Lander  entered.  Bridger  peered  up  from  his 
work  and  greeted : 

"What  does  a  A\  F.  C.  man  want  here  at  this 
hour?" 

"Work,"  was  the  laconic  reply. 

"Through?" 

"Dismissed." 

"Why?" 

"Hurry-Up  Parker." 


AT   TILTON'S   PLACE  29 

"He's  a  good  trader,  a  ripping  good  river  and 
mountain  man.  One  of  the  kings  of  the  Missouri. 
What's  his  complaint  against  you?" 

"He  has  a  daughter.  I — I  like  her.  He 
doesn't  like  to  have  me  like  her." 

Bridger  grinned  broadly  in  sympathetic 
amusement. 

"Old  man  acted  rough,  eh?  They  sometimes 
do  unless  you  marry  a'  Injun  squaw.  No  chance 
for  trouble  with  them  as  a  feller  is  never  spoken 
to  by,  an'  mustn't  speak  to,  his  father-in-law. 
Everything  goes  as  smooth  as  a  fiddle.  But 
work?" 

"Parker  said  the  A.  F.  C.  would  see  to  it  I  got 
none  in  St.  Louis." 

"It's  like  the  A.  F.  C.  Won't  give  a  man  his 
bread  an'  butter  an'  don't  'low  to  let  any  one  else. 
They'll  have  more  important  things  to  think 
about  afore  the  season's  over.  Now  let's  see. 
We're  all  finished  up  here.  A  few  weeks  ago  I 
could  have  used  you  fine.  This  fussing  round 
with  papers  makes  me  nervous,  an'  I  reckon  you'd 
done  it  quicker'n  a  wolf  can  steal  meat." 

"I've  done  quite  a  bit  of  it.  Parker  wants  to 
fix  it  to  drive  me  from  town.  And  you  can't  use 
me  here?" 


30  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"Not  now.  Mebbe  later."  And  Bridger's 
voice  was  very  kind.  "You  see  the  outfit  gits 
under  way  to-morrow.  Some  of  the  men  are  at 
St.  Charles  with  the  keelboat.  Some  are  waiting 
at  Lexington  for  the  steamer  to  fetch  up  goods 
an'  supplies.  Etienne  Prevost  will  take  the  keel- 
boat  as  far  as  Fort  Pierre.  I  shall  take  the  land 
party  through  to  the  yearly  rendezvous  some- 
where on  Green  River.  An'  some  of  the  men  are 
helling  round  St.  Louis  to-night  an'  will  be  lucky 
if  they  ain't  left  behind.  I  leave  in  an  hour  on 
my  best  mule  to  ride  across  country  to  Lexing- 
ton. So,  my  young  friend,  the  work  down  here 
is  all  done  an'  I'm  sorry."  * 

"It  was  only  a  chance,"  sighed  Lander.  "I 
didn't  want  to  miss  the  shadow  of  a  chance." 

Bridger  tugged  at  his  brown  hair  and  eyed 
Lander  thoughtfully.     Then  he  abruptly  asked: 

"Why  don't  you  take  on  with  a  mountain  trip  ? 
Give  you  two  hundred  'n'  ninety  dollars  for  the 
next  year  'n'  half — eighteen  months — an'  such 
grub  as  can  be  found  in  the  Injun  country. 
You're  young.  Once  you  git  started  no  knowing 
how  far  you'll  go." 

Lander's  eyes  glistened  and  for  a  moment  Brid- 
ger believed  he  was  to  sign  up.     Then  his  gaze 


AT   TILTON'S   PLACE  31 

fell.  The  mountain  trip  was  all  he  would  ask  for 
it  if  were  not  for  leaving  Susette  behind.  At  least 
he  could  not  leave  her  until  he  had  seen  her  and 
had  explained  things. 

"If  that  offer  could  hold  good  for  a  few  days," 
he  began. 

"No,  sir !  Take  it  or  leave  it  as  it  stands,"  cut 
in  Bridger.  "We  want  men  who  can  decide 
things  right  off  the  handle.  The  outfit  starts 
to-morrow.  Those  who  don't  git  across  country 
to  St.  Charles  to-night  will  git  left." 

"Well,  Tm  sorry  I  can't  sign  on,  and  I  can't 
start  to-morrow.  I've  several  things  to  attend  to. 
Much  obliged  for  the  offer,  though." 

"That's  all  right,"  grunted  Bridger,  nodding 
his  head  and  returning  to  his  lists. 

Outside  the  store  Lander  recalled  his  appoint- 
ment with  Papa  Clair  at  Tilton's  place  on 
the  water-front  near  the  foot  of  Cherry  Street. 
He  hurried  to  the  rendezvous  inflamed  by  his 
desire  to  find  Phinny.  In  his  despair  and  dis- 
couragement he  needed  something  to  feed  upon ; 
and  so  long  as  a  successful  love  seemed  dubious 
he  would  turn  to  the  positive  of  hate.  He  now 
knew  he  had  hated  Phinny  for  a  long  time  and 
had  subconsciously  resented  the  man's  many  petty 


32  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

treacheries.  With  desire  for  Httle  Susette  bur- 
geoning his  path  he  had  put  hate  to  one  side. 
Had  the  path  held  smooth  his  ignorement  of 
Phinny  would  have  been  permanent.  Outraged 
by  Hurry-Up  Parker's  contemptuous  treatment 
he  fished  out  his  grievance  against  Phinny  from 
its  mental  pigeonhole  and  knew  it  was  a  matter 
demanding  imperative  attention. 

He  minutely  reviewed  his  career  as  storeman 
for  the  A.  F.  C.  and  easily  traced  the  thread  of 
treachery  running  through  Phinny's  daily  actions. 
He  recalled  the  innumerable  little  disagreeable 
incidents  at  the  beginning  of  his  employment, 
when  he  was  made  to  appear  awkward  and  slow- 
witted  when  Parker's  attention  was  unnecessarily 
attracted  to  his  minor  faults.  Phinny's  persever- 
ance in  undermining  his  chances  for  favorable 
attention  was  like  the  malicious  gnawing  of  the 
Missouri  at  its  banks.  What  at  the  time  had  im- 
pressed him  as  being  purposeless  acts  of  mischief 
now  bobbed  to  the  surface  of  his  recollections  as 
deliberate  traps.  Phinny  had  plotted  systemat- 
ically from  the  beginning  against  the  blind  lover. 

Lander's  new  perspective  also  permitted  him  to 
discern  quite  accurately  the  time  Hurry-Up  Par- 
ker shifted  from  his  usual  gruff  attitude  to  evi- 


AT   TILTON'S   PLACE  33 

dences  of  surly  dislike.  Phinny  was  slated  for 
promotion  to  Cabanne's  Post,  or  Fort  Union,  on 
the  upper  river.  Lander  was  being  groomed  to 
take  his  place  in  the  store.  Shortly  after  this 
arrangement  was  tacitly  understood  by  Parker 
and  his  two  employees,  Parker  had  displayed  a 
new  face  and  the  promotion  was  not  spoken  of 
again. 

Lander  was  compelled  to  admit  to  himself  that 
his  failure  to  advance  might  be  due  in  part  to  his 
own  indifference.  He  had  entered  the  A.  F.  C. 
with  a  fine  mettle  to  see  service  above  the  Yellow- 
stone. He  had  longed  to  take  his  chances  with 
the  keelboats  fighting  their  way  by  the  treach- 
erous Aricara  villages  in  the  land  of  the  Sioux 
near  the  mouth  of  Grand  River.  He  had  dreamed 
of  visiting  the  Cheyennes  at  the  eastern  base  of 
the  Black  Hills.  There  were  the  Mandans  and 
Minnetarees  along  the  Upper  Missouri  and  the 
Knife  to  be  explored,  and  the  stories  of  Lewis 
and  Clark  to  be  verified.  Between  their  villages 
and  the  Milk  and  extending  far  north  were  the 
numerous  and  powerful  Assiniboins  to  be  con- 
quered in  trade.  From  the  Milk  to  the  source  of 
the  Missouri  were  the  Blackfeet,  ferocious  in  their 
hatred  toward  the  whites.    What  better  adventur- 


34  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

ing-  than  the  sharp  dash  into  the  beaver  country ! 
In  the  valleys  of  the  Yellowstone  and  the  Big 
Horn  were  the  Crows  with  their  strange  liking  to 
have  white  men  live  among  them.  He  eagerly 
had  sought  his  information  from  returning  trad- 
ers and  trappers.  He  had  absorbed  much  about 
the  various  nations.  He  had  drawn  deductions 
his  informants  were  too  lazy  mentally  to  indulge 
in,  such  as  the  probable  halting  of  the  fur  trade 
for  many  years  if  the  nations  along  the  Missouri 
had  not  been  poor  boatmen,  seeking  the  river 
largely  for  water  and  fuel.  Had  they  been  like 
the  Eastern  Indians,  skilful  in  water-craft,  what 
chance  would  boats  have  had  prior  to  the  coming 
of  steam?  And  had  the  wooden  canoe  and  the 
flatboat  and  keelboat  been  discouraged  from  pen- 
etrating the  unknown  country  would  steam  have 
become  sufficiently  interested  to  take  over  the 
river  ? 

There  was  no  doubt  but  that  he  had  started  in 
on  hi^  work  with  a  fine  zeal,  and  that  Parker  had 
seized  him  as  an  unusual  youngster  and  had  been 
impressed  by  his  enthusiasm.  Then  came  the 
curly-headed  rattle-pate,  and  the  swish  of  her 
dainty  skirts  had  sent  all  his  fine  ambitions 
a- flying. 


AT   TILTON'S   PLACE  35 

As  he  made  for  Tilton's  he  confessed  there  was 
much  room  for  self-criticism.  He  had  feebly 
endeavored  to  criticize  himself  before,  but  his 
reproaches  were  always  put  to  flight  by  the  sooth- 
ing realization  he  would  see  Susette  on  the  mor- 
row. So  he  had  kept  at  his  dead  tasks,  exchang- 
ing his  chance  to  become  a  mountain  man  for  the 
sake  of  her  sweet  smiles. 

There  was  Bridger.  He  might  have  been  like 
B ridge r,  a  born  topographer,  more  familiar  with 
the  mountain  passes  and  streams  than  even  Kit 
Carson.  Bridger  and  Carson  had  trapped 
together  on  the  Powder  River  two  years  back. 

One  year  before,  when  but  twenty-six  years 
old,  Bridger  with  Milton  Sublette,  Henry  Frack 
and  John  B.  Gervaise,  had  bought  out  the  old 
partners  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  Fur  Company. 
Under  Bridger's  lead  two  hundred  men  had 
passed  through  the  Big  Horn  basin,  had  crossed 
the  Yellowstone,  had  followed  the  Missouri  to  its 
three  forks,  then  up  the  Jefferson  to  the  Divide 
and  on  to  the  Great  Salt  Lake.  Twelve  hundred 
miles  before  they  returned  to  winter  on  the 
Powder. 

"And  all  I've  done  is  to  wear  out  a  path 
between  goods  and  supplies  in  the  store,"  groaned 


36  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

Lander.  "Bridger,  not  much  older'n  I  am,  can 
travel  all  over  the  continent;  and  I  can't  make  a 
trail  to  Pine  Street." 

Lander  was  honest  enough  not  to  blame 
Phinny  for  those  shortcomings  which  love  was 
responsible  for. 

"But He  might  'a'  let  me  alone.     He 

could  'a'  seen  I  was  slipping  back  in  the  old  man's 
good-will  without  giving  me  the  sly  kicks  he  did 
to  make  me  slip  faster." 

What  would  Jim  Bridger  have  'done  had 
Phinny  plotted  against  himf  He  would  have 
made  him  "chaw  dirt."  No  doubt  about  that. 
But  Hurry-Up  Parker  would  never  discourage 
Jim  Bridger  if  he  came  wooing  Susette.  Old 
Parker  would  have  welcomed  him  with  both 
hands,  brought  out  a  bottle  and  insisted  on  mak- 
ing a  night  of  it,  and  would  have  concluded  the 
bout  with  urging  his  son-in-law  to  take  a  large 
part  in  the  affairs  of  the  A.  F.  C. 

All  St.  Louis  knew — and  this  meant  all  the  fur- 
trading  world — that  Bridger  was  a  thorn  to  the 
A.  F.  C.  and  would  give  the  powerful  organiza- 
tion a  mighty  hard  fight  this  season.  Already  he 
had  aroused  the  A.  F.  C.  to  a  point  where  it  ad- 
mitted his  mettle  by  sending  men  to  dog  him 


AT   TILTON'S   PLACE  37 

over  the  country  and  to  compete  with  him  once 
he  had  led  the  way  to  choice  beaver  regions. 
Bridger  had  been  recognized  as  a  menace.  He 
was  asked  into  the  city  office  for  drinks  and 
cigars.  Lander,  the  clerk,  was  ignominiously 
driven  from  the  premises. 

"I'll  even  up  with  Phinny,  then  get  work,"  con- 
cluded Lander  as  he  neared  Tilton's.  "Pd  gone 
with  Bridger  in  a  minute  if  he  wasn't  in  such  a 
hurry  to  get  started." 

A  squeaking  fiddle  and  a  rough  chorus  focused 
his  mind  on  the  job  ahead  of  him.  Throwing 
open  the  door  he  stepped  through  and  to  one  side 
and  leaned  against  the  wall  while  he  got  his  bear- 
ings, for  the  place  was  foggy  with  tobacco  smoke. 
The  usual  rough-scuff  of  river  loungers  was 
draped  over  the  long  bar.  In  the  corners  and 
along  the  sides  of  the  big  room  were  a  dozen 
mountain  men,  sleeping  off  their  last  spree  before 
returning  to  fight  the  Blackfeet. 

Keelboat  men  who  would  stick  to  the  river, 
who  preferred  cordelling  their  long  crafts  the 
thousand  odd  miles  to  seeking  fortune  in  the 
mountains,  were  uproariously  drunk  and  danc- 
ing in  the  middle  of  the  floor.  Some  were  French 
Canadians,  others — and  these  were  more  favored 


38  KINiGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

by  traders — were  St.  Louis  Creoles.  Both  types 
were  light-hearted  and  irresponsible.  They  were 
capable  of  carrying"  a  thousand-foot  tow-line  the 
full  length  of  the  Missouri,  forcing  their  way 
through  all  natural  obstacles,  but  of  not  much 
account  when  the  Indians  rode  along  the  shores 
and  enfiladed  them  with  arrows  and  balls  and 
invited  them  to  come  up  and  make  a  real  fight. 
When  it  came  to  battle  it  was  the  long-haired  and 
bewhiskered  trapper,  who  would  rather  walk 
from  St.  Louis  to  the  Rockies  than  to  carry  a 
tow-line  a  day's  journey,  who  would  quit  his 
yarning  and  smoking  and  gambling  to  swarm  up 
the  bank  and  debate  the  matter. 

In  addition  to  these  well-known  specimens  of 
the  frontier  town  there  were  strangers,  easily 
classified  but  not  to  be  included  in  the  lists  of 
useful  occupations.  These  were  less  boisterous 
than  the  drunken  boatmen,  less  sleepy  and  indif- 
ferent than  the  mountain  men.  They  drank  with 
their  backs  to  the  wall  and  out  of  range  of  win- 
dows. Even  when  swallowing  their  fiery  pota- 
tions they  did  not  close  the  eye  or  roll  it  to  the 
ceiling  in  mute  testimony  to  the  liquor's  potency. 
They  tipped  the  glass  rather  than  the  head  and 
maintained  a  level  gaze  on  the  door,  and  ceased 


AT   TILTON'S   PLACE  39 

swallowing  until  they  had  settled  the  status  of 
each  newcomer.  These  were  the  derelicts  from 
beyond  the  Mississippi,  fleeing  the  noose,  crea- 
tures with  blood  on  their  souls  and  who  needed 
only  the  opportunity  to  augment  their  sins  by 
further  killings.  It  was  the  influx  of  these  des- 
peradoes that  gave  St.  Louis  a  name  for 
lawlessness. 

Lander  swept  the  murky  room  and  met  the 
challenging  stare  of  a  dozen  suspicious  eyes,  then 
started  down  the  bar,  the  white  head  of  Papa 
Clair  having  caught  his  eye.  The  old  man  flung 
up  a  hand  and  beckoned  to  him  briskly.  The  law- 
breakers noted  the  gesture  of  welcome  and 
returned  to  their  drink. 

Papa  was  on  a  bench  in  the  corner  near  a  table. 
At  the  table,  but  not  of  his  company,  were  four 
men  who  were  neither  traders,  trappers,  nor  river 
men.  Their  secrecy  in  conversing,  the  failure  of 
the  strong  liquor  to  loosen  their  tongues,  the  gar- 
nishment of  pistols  and  long  knife  in  the  belt  of 
each,  and — this  as  indicative  as  all  else — the 
timidity  and  deference  of  the  mulatto  serving 
their  table,  tagged  them  as  superlative  fugitives 
from  eastern  justice,  most  excellent  fellows  to 
keep  away  from. 


40  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

In  his  haste  to  join  his  friend  fenced  off  in  the 
corner  Lander's  foot  struck  against  the  chair  at 
the  end  of  the  table,  causing  the  occupant's  hand 
to  spill  his  liquor.  His  friends  laughed  jeeringly. 
With  a  vile  outcry,  without  bothering  to  draw  a 
weapon  from  his  bristling  belt,  the  man  sprang 
to  his  feet  and  swung  the  bottle  of  liquor  above 
his  head.  Lander  stood  as  stupefied,  his  wits 
paralyzed,  and  he  would  have  been  brained  if  it 
had  not  been  for  the  glittering  streak  over  the 
table. 

With  a  roar  of  pain  the  man  dropped  the  bot- 
tle and  stared  aghast  at  the  riven  forearm. 
Lightly  as  a  cat  old  Papa  Clair  came  swarming 
over  the  table,  a  second  blade  clutched  by  the 
haft,  and  with  a  yank  that  sent  the  desperado  reel- 
ing into  his  chair  with  sickness  he  recovered  his 
knife,  softly  crying: 

"It  is  mine.    Please!" 

"Lawful  heart,  but  he's  done  gone  an'  throwed 
a  knife  through  Buck's  arm !"  howled  one  of  the 
four ;  and  he  came  to  his  feet,  his  hand  fumbling 
at  his  belt. 

The  others  pushed  back  their  chairs,  but  before 
they  could  rise  Papa  Clair's  left  hand  poised  a 
knife  by  the  tip,  the  other  held  for  a  thrust  in 


AT  TILTON'S   PLACE  41 

his  right  han'd.  Lander  came  to  his  senses  and 
whipped  out  his  blade  from  his  boot.  Papa  Clair 
jolted  him  to  the  rear  with  an  elbow  and,  mincing 
aside  a  few  steps  to  confront  the  man  on  his  feet, 
he  purred : 

"Ah,  m'sieu  knows  the  knife.  See  and  behold ! 
I  drop  my  hand.  I  take  the  knife  by  the  handle. 
I  will  not  move  till  m'sieu  lifts  his  blade  and  is 
ready  to  throw." 

A  river-rat  squirmed  up  to  the  table  and  whis- 
pered hoarsely  in  the  desperado's  ear.  With  a 
sickly  grimace  the  man  placed  both  hands  on  the 
table.  His  friends  glared  at  him  in  wonderment. 
He  explained : 

"Devil  Clair.  Go  'down  to  the  Gulf  an'  ask 
'bout  him  in  th'  old  days.  If  any  on  ye  wants  to 
pick  up  this  trouble  an'  carry  a  fight  to  him,  ye're 
welcome  to  my  chance.  I  quits.  IVe  seen  a 
'gator  chaw  up  a  puppy.  There  ain't  a  bit  o'  fight 
left  in  my  whole  natur'."  Then  to  Papa  Clair  and 
with  a  side  nod  toward  the  wounded  man,  "Ye 
got  through  with  Hepsy  ?" 

Papa  Clair  was  grieved  and  replacing  one 
knife  tugged  at  his  long  white  mustache 
regretfully. 

"No  spirit,"  he  sighed  to  Lander.     "When  I 


42  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

was  young —  Such  a  long,  well-lighted  room, 
with  plenty  of  room  for  the  people  to  line  up  and 
enjoy  it. . . .  He  speaks  of  the  Gulf.  Ah,  those 
were  days!  Descendant  of  pig-devils,  stick  out 
your  arm." 

This  to  the  groanhig  wounded  man.  The  man 
timidly  obeyed.  Papa  Clair  examined  the  wound 
and  proudly  proclaimed  to  the  staring,  silent 
patrons  of  the  place : 

"Through  the  flesh!  The  bone  is  barely 
touched.  As  pretty  a  cast  as  I  ever  made.  Wash 
it  with  whisky  and  if  there  isn't  too  much  poison 
in  the  blood  it  will  heal  rapidly. ...  Take  nisieu 
away.  He  needs  quiet  and  rest.  And  I  need 
this  table." 

The  last  was  accompanied  by  a  bristling  glance 
at  the  wounded  man's  friends,  a  baleful  glance 
that  hoped  to  find  opposition.  The  three  men 
rose  and  led  their  groaning  friend  down  the 
room  to  the  door,  followed  by  jeers  and  laughter 
from  the  onlookers.  Papa  Clair  replaced  the 
knife  in  his  boot  and  said : 

"My  friend,  I  have  waited  long  for  you.  Your 
man  has  not  been  in.  Where  have  you  been? 
What  have  you  done  ?" 

"Failed  in  everything  I  tried.     Parker  came 


AT   TILTON'S   PLACE  43 

along  before  I  could  see  my  little  friend.  But 
ril  see  her  to-morrow.  I  found  Jim  Bridger  in 
the  Washington  Avenue  store  and  tried  to  get 
work  with  his  company.  But  his  outfit  starts 
to-morrow;  and  of  course  I  couldn't  go  without 
seeing  the  lady.  Two  failures.  If  they  go  in 
threes  it  means  I  shall  not  see  Phinny  and  settle 
my  score  with  him  to-night." 

*Tt  is  to  be  regretted  your  not  seeing  your  lit- 
tle friend  to-night.  If  you  could  have  explained 
to  her  to-night —  But  there;  you  didn't  know 
when  you  went  to  meet  her  that  you  might  ask 
work  off  Bridger.  He  is  a  great  man.  Not  so 
good  with  the  knife  as  Jim  Baker,  yet  a  great 
man.  I  was  with  him  in  Cache  Valley  on  Bear 
River  in  the  winter  of  twenty-four.  Etienne 
Prevost  had  charge  of  us  during  our  trapping  on 
the  Wind  and  Green  that  season.  We  did  not 
agree  about  the  course  of  the  Bear  and  wagers 
were  made.  It  was  night  and  Bridger  rose  and 
said  he  would  settle  the  dispute.  He  left  the  fire 
and  disappeared.  When  we  saw  him  again  it  was 
when  he  came  back  from  the  Great  Salt  Lake. 
He  had  followed  the  Bear  to  the  lake.  He  had 
found  the  water  salt.  He  was  the  first  white  man 
to  see  that  body  of  water.     The  Spaniards  say 


44  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

one  of  their  missionaries,  Friar  Escalante  of 
Santa  Fe,  visited  the  lake  in  seventeen  seventy- 
five.  I  believe  M'sieu  Bridger  v^as  the  first. 
And  do  you  know,  my  friend,  we  all  believed  the 
lake  was  an  arm  of  the  Pacific  until  the  next  sea- 
son when  four  of  our  men  visited  it  and  explored 
the  shore  line  in  skin-boats  and  found  it  had  no 
outlet." 

"Bridger's  a  good  mountain  man,  all  right," 
shortly  agreed  Lander,  his  own  failures  making 
the  other^s  praise  offensive.  "But  he  has  his 
weak  spots.  All  about  cooking  fish  and  meat  in 
boiling  springs,  hot  water  shooting  into  the  air 
nearly  a  hundred  feet !  If  that  wasn't  enough  he 
insists  the  hot  water  spouts  at  certain  times, 
just  so  long  a  time  apart.  Wonder  who  keeps 
watch  of  it  and  turns  it  off  and  on  every  so  often. 
Then  there's  his  cave  of  Indian  war-paint. 
Wonder  why  any  Indians  bother  to  trade  robes 
for  our  vermilion  when  they  can  have  it  for  noth- 
ing at  any  time !" 

"That  is  up  in  the  Crow  country.  He  had  a 
chance  to  look  about  up  there.  He  may  forget 
and  fill  up  the  chinks  with  fancies,  yet  he  must 
have  seen  something,"  wistfully  defended  Papa 
Clair,  his  white  brows  drawn  down  in  bushy 


AT  TILTON'S   PLACE  45 

bewilderment.    "So  fine  a  man  can  not  be  a  liar. 
When  he  told  me  about  pickling  enough  buffalo 
in  the  Great  Salt  Lake  to  last  a  big  band  of  trap-  -  y 
pers  a  whole  season  I  could  see  there  was  sense  to  ' 
the  scheme.     But,  my  friend,  I'm  sorry  he  told    ; 
about  the  cooking  springs.     Warm  water  per- 
haps; but  to  catch  fish  from  a  stream  and  throw 
them    over   and  boil    them — name    of    a   pipe! 
Yet  I  try  to  believe  him.    The  pickling  of  buffalo 
rang  true  but — ^there,  there!    He  is  a  fine  man. 
Let  us  not  say  more  about  it." 

"Why  hasn't  some  one  else  seen  that  wonder- 
ful lake,  sixty  miles  long,  hemmed  in  by  moun- 
tains?" persisted  Lander. 

Papa  shrugged  his  thin  shoulders  and  with  a 
malicious  little  grin  said : 

"I  know  one  way  to  prove  it  is,  or  isn't.  If  I 
were  younger  I  should  do  it  by  myself.  That  is 
to  go  there  and  look  about.  If  I  were  younger — 
Well,  well,  Jim  Bridger  has  seen  so  much  that  is 
wonderful  he  has  no  need  to  tell  fairy  stories. 
I  swallowed  his  pickled  buffalo.  Why  not  ?  But 
behold!  I  feel  depressed  when  he  tells  of  the 
cooking-spring.  The  cave  of  war-paint.  Some 
one  must  have  left  some  paint  there.  But  to  say 
it  grows — ^holy  blue!    Yet   he  saw   something. 


46  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

Perhaps  the  lake  wasn't  sixty  miles  long.  Per- 
haps the  water  was  not  scalding  hot,  just  warm. 
Who  knows?  And  yet  when  I  was  very  young, 
even  before  the  Missouris  were  exterminated, 
when  the  Otoes  and  Kansas  tribes  were  some- 
thing besides  names,  I  heard  strange  stories  from 
the  up-river  country — like  fairy  stories.  But  yet 
so  wonderful  a  country  must  have  wonderful 
secrets.  Even  in  the  few  years  left  to  me  and  my 
knives  I  believe  I  could  uncover  some  strange 
things  up  there.  Only  the  good  God  knows  it  all. 
And  if  I  did  they  would  call  me,  *Papa  Clair,  the 
old  liar.'  " 

"Not  to  your  face,  Papa,"  warmly  declared 
Lander.  "And  I  haven't  thanked  you  yet  for 
stopping  that  fellow  from  braining  me.  My  head 
was  asleep.  I  saw  him  lift  the  bottle  over  me 
and  it  seemed  I  was  dreaming  and  couldn't  move 
a  peg.  If  some  one  had  touched  me,  just  to  start 
me — but  no  one  did.  So,  old  friend,  I  owe  you  a 
life." 

"Take  good  care  of  it.  Keep  it  clean  for  the 
little  friend.    Wait!" 

He  beckoned  to  a  boy  and  gave  an  order.  The 
boy  brought  a  bottle  of  French  wine  which  Papa 
Clair  lovingly  decanted,  and  then  proposed : 


AT  TILTON'S   PLACE  47 

"To  Her!  We  shall  see  different  pictures  as 
we  drink;  yet  it  is  the  same  little  woman  to  be 
found  in  every  land  where  love  is." 

They  drank  standing,  the  ceremony  attracting 
the  attention  of  those  near  by.  As  they  were 
resuming  their  seats  the  door  opened  with  a 
crash,  and  Malcom  Phinny,  followed  by  several 
men,  entered.  He  flapped  his  arms  and  crowed  a 
challenge.  River  men  stirred  uneasily,  anxious 
to  cut  his  comb.  Old  mountain  men  lazily  opened 
their  eyes,  sniffed  in  contempt,  and  went  back  to 
their  sleep. 

Phinny  undoubtedly  would  have  been  quickly 
accommodated  with  more  trouble  than  he  could 
carry  had  not  Tilton  rushed  from  behind  the  bar 
and  greeted  him  effusively,  thus  branding  him 
as  a  friend  and  one  who  was  protected  by  the 
warning,  "Hands  off." 

"Coming  man  in  the  A.  F.  C,"  a  trader  at  the 
table  next  to  Clair's  informed  his  companion,  a 
long-haired  free  trapper. 

"To with  the  A.  F.  C,"  growled  the  trap- 
per. "He'll  be  a  goin'  man  if  he  does  any  more 
ki-yi-yiing  round  here." 

Papa  Clair  reached  forward  and  tapped  him 
lightly  on  the  shoulder  and  sweetly  asked : 


48  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"Is  it  not  much  better,  m'sieu,  for  the  old  men 
of  the  village  to  correct  their  young  men  than  for 
outsiders  to  take  over  the  task  ?" 

The  trapper  gave  him  a  belligerent  glance,  rec- 
ognized the  wrinkled  face,  and  fretfully  snarled : 

*T  don't  want  none  o'  yer  fight,  Etienne  Clair. 
If  yer  knife  is  lookin*  for  meat  it  can  look 
farther." 

Papa  sighed  despondently  and  settled  back  and 
toyed  with  his  wine.  Lander,  who  was  watch- 
ing Phinny,  was  scarcely  conscious  of  this  little 
by-play ;  and  as  he  gazed  his  eyes  glared  wickedly. 
The  loss  of  his  position,  the  warning  to  keep 
away  from  the  Pine  Street  home  and  Susette, 
were  all  attributed  to  the  dark  face  up  the  line. 

Phinny  had  been  drinking  enough  to  make 
him  reckless.  If  not  for  Tilton's  public  avowal 
of  favor  a  dozen  hands  would  have  pawed  at  him 
before  he  was  ten  feet  inside  the  door.  Again  he 
flapped  his  arms  and  crowed.  Beyond  side 
glances  no  attention  was  paid  him  this  time. 
Cocking  his  head  insolently  he  strutted  the  length 
of  the  bar.  Papa  Clair  heard  Lander's  boots 
scrape  on  the  rough  floor  as  he  drew  his  feet 
under  him. 

Phinny  now  saw  him  and  his  dark  eyes  glit- 


AT  TILTON'S   PLACE  49 

tered  vindictively.  Taking  a  position  at  the  end 
of  the  bar  where  he  could  keep  his  gaze  on  Lan- 
der, he  rolled  some  coins  on  the  slab  and  in  a  loud 
voice  invited: 

"Every  one  drinlc  to  my  luck  in  gitting  rid  of  a 
snake,  a  two-legged  snake,  that  crawled  out  of 
my  path  and  knows  better  than  to  return." 

"Curse  him !"  hissed  Lander,  his  hand  dropping 
down  to  his  boot  and  playing  with  the  haft  of  his 
knife. 

"Softly,  softly.  It  all  works  out  very  sweetly," 
purred  Papa  Clair,  his  blue  eyes  beaming  cheerily. 
"Patience.  A  well-lighted  room,  a  company  wor- 
shipful of  good  entertainment,  and  fair  play  in 
the  person  of  Etienne  Clair.  But  let  it  come 
naturally." 

The  liquor  was  speedily  consumed,  and  Phinny, 
noting  the  strained  expression  on  Lander's  face, 
made  more  coins  dance  on  the  bar  and  bawled : 

"It's  my  night.  It's  been  my  day.  To-morrow 
will  be  my  day.  Once  more  with  me,  and  drink 
hearty.  This  time  to  *S' —  the  only  woman 
west  of  the  Mississippi." 

"Base-born  dog!"  growled  Papa  Clair,  his 
white  beard  bristling. 

Lander  rose  to  his  feet  and  picked  up  his  glass. 


so  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

Before  he  could  hurl  it  Phinny  threw  his  glass, 
striking  Lander  on  the  arm  but  doing  no  harm. 

^'You'll  fight,  you  sneak !"  roared  Lander. 

*'0h,  my  friend,  my  friend,'*  groaned  Papa 
Clair,  seizing  Lander's  arm  and  preventing  him 
from  leaping  at  his  enemy.  "Such  roughness! 
Such  lack  of  wit !    I  am  embarrassed  !'* 

"You  heard  him!"  choked  Lander,  trying  to 
throw  off  the  detaining  hand. 

*' You've  played  into  his  hands.  YouVe  chal- 
lenged him,"  sighed  the  old  man,  his  long,  slim 
fingers  contracting  like  circlets  of  steel.  "It 
could  have  been  so  pretty.  Now  it  becomes  a 
brawl ....  But  wait !  He  had  no  right  to  throw 
the  glass  and  make  you  challenge  him.  You  gave 
the  first  affront  when  you  rose  to  hurl  your  glass. 
Hell's  devils!  Does  he  think  to  conduct  this  like 
a  keelboat  fight  ?  I  will  straighten  it  out.  I  will 
make  his  friends  see  it  in  the  true  light.  He 
must  challenge  you,  and  you  shall  have  choice  of 
weapons." 

He  rose  with  a  knife  held  back  of  his  arm  and 
took  a  step  toward  Phinny,  when  Lander  swept 
him  behind  him,  hoarsely  objecting : 

"No,  no.    Let  it  finish  as  it  began."    Then  to 


AT   TILTON'S   PLACE  51 

Phlnny :  "I  said  you  must  fight.  You  have  lost 
your  tongue  ?'* 

"Yes,  ril  fight,"  gritted  Phinny.  "Tilton  will 
look  after  me.  I  only  demand  that  we  fight  at 
once.    Here." 

"Not  here,"  protested  Tilton.  "Gentlemen, 
please  be  still.  I'll  look  after  my  friend.  I  sup- 
pose this  young  cock-a-lorum  can  scare  up  a 
friend." 

"Viable  m'emporte!''  ejaculated  Papa  Clair, 
gliding  forward.  "Come !  What  do  you  mean  ? 
You  try  to  pick  a  quarrel  with  an  old  man.  Yes. 
I  appear  for  M'sieu  Lander.  Behold,  you  speak 
slurringly  of  me  to  him.  This  is  very  bad. 
Come!" 

Tilton's  liquor-flushed  face  became  pallid. 
Fragments  of  strange  tales  concerning  Papa 
Clair's  wild  youth  flocked  through  the  man's 
mind — wicked  old  stories  of  the  Gulf,  when  men 
made  their  own  laws,  whispers  of  lonely  lagoons 
that  were  visited  only  by  piratical  craft. 

"I  meant  I  reckined  it  might  be  difficult  for 
him  to  reach  his  friends  in  time  to  fight  at  once. 
No  harm  was  meant.  As  you  represent  him 
s'pose  we  talk  it  over.  Mebbe  we  can  fix  it  up 
without  any  fighting." 


52  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"Then  you  don't  stand  for  me,"  cried  Phinny, 
whisky-courageous,  and  he  walked  to  the  upper 
end  of  the  bar. 

"Oh,  you  shall  have  your  satisfy,  young  roos- 
ter,'' sneered  Papa  Clair,  in  nowise  contented 
with  Tilton's  evasion  of  a  quarrel. 

Tilton  waved  the  crowd  back  and  talked  earn- 
estly to  Papa  who  heard  him  sullenly. 

"I  agree,"  shortly  said  Papa  as  the  saloon- 
keeper finished.  "It  is  poor  sport  when  so  much 
better  could  be  had  for  the  asking." 

With  that  he  returned  to  Lander,  twisting  his 
long  mustaches  and  trembling  with  anger. 

"We  are  to  go  over  to  Bloody  Island,"  he 
rapped  out. 

"Good!" 

"As  the  challenged  person  he  chooses  pistols. 
Sacrilege!"  snapped  Papa. 

"I  do  not  care.  Let  it  be  pistols.  Only  let's  go 
to  business." 

"My  friend,  be  patient.  You  sHall  soon  face 
him.  It  is  not  because  I  fear  for  you  with  pistols 
that  I  grieve.  It  is  because  you  blundered  and 
played  into  their  hands.  When  all  was  so  prettily 
staged  for  clean  knife-play!  Bah!  Honor  is 
more  easily  satisfied  these  days.    But  there  were 


AT  TILTON'S   PLACE  53 

times  when  one  'did  not  have  to  wait  a  year  to  see 
the  knife-fight.  Well,  well.  Let  us  get  along 
with  it.  Perhaps  some  time  we  shall  deserve  bet- 
ter. We  go  at  once.  The  moon  is  up.  It  will  be 
light  enough  to  exchange  shots." 


Chapter  III 


THE  DUEL 


¥T  liACKED  an  hour  of  midnight  when  Jim 
^  Bridger  locked  the  Washington  Avenue  store 
and  walked  down  to  the  river-front.  He  was 
about  to  leave  the  city  for  another  year  in  the 
mountains,  and  there  was  no  guarantee  he  would 
ever  return.  There  were  many  forgotten  graves 
along  the  Missouri  and  its  tributaries.  Bridger 
meditated  calmly  on  the  possible  vicissitudes  of 
the  season  ahead,  and  knew  that  for  a  certain 
percentage  of  his  mountain  men  this  would  be  the 
last  trip  to  the  Rockies. 

He  had  halted  close  to  the  river  and  found  him- 
self staring  through  the  soft  moonlight  at  Bloody 
Island.  The  island,  famous  as  a  dueling-ground 
for  the  hot  spirits  of  the  time,  who  would  not  be 
satisfied  with  anything  short  of  a  rival's  blood, 
always  fascinated  him.  As  a  boy  he  knew  its  his- 
tory.:   Often  he  had  wandered  over  it  and  paused 

54 


THE  DUEL  55 

to  rest  in  the  shade  of  the  huge  cottonwood  which 
had  stood  there  a  sturdy  tree  long  before  St. 
Charles,  Petite  Cote,  began  life  as  the  first  settle- 
ment on  the  Missouri,  or  two  years  before  St. 
Louis  had  its  beginning. 

Bridger  was  thirteen  years  old  and  supporting 
himself  and  his  sister  with  his  ferry-boat  when 
Thomas  H.  Benton,  "Old  Bullion,''  and  Charles 
Lucas  fought  two  duels  on  the  island,  Lucas  being 
killed.  Six  years  later  Joshua  Barton,  a  brother 
of  the  first  United  States  Senator  from  Missouri, 
was  killed  by  Thomas  Rector  under  the  cotton- 
wood.  And  could  he  have  read  the  future  for  the 
period  of  but  four  months  he  would  have  known 
that  Major  Thomas  Biddle,  paymaster  of  the 
United  States  Army,  and  Congressman  Spencer 
Pettis  were  to  kill  each  other,  the  range  being 
but  five  feet. 

As  he  was  recalling  the  historic  encounters, 
and  many  others  of  lesser  notoriety,  he  was  dis- 
turbed by  the  dipping  of  paddles  and  the  appear- 
ance of  a  long  dugout  making  for  the  island.  His 
spell  vanished  and  he  would  have  left  the  levee 
had  he  not  observed  that  the  canoe  was  filled  with 
men.  The  hour,  the  number  of  men  in  the  twen- 
ty-five  footer,   told  him   that   only  one   errand 


56  KINiGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

could  call  them  to  Bloody  Island.  He  stayed  his 
steps  and  stared  after  them  curious  to  witness  the 
finale  of  the  affair.  A  second  canoe  shot  into 
the  moonlight,  but  this  was  smaller  than  the  other 
and  seemed  to  contain  but  two  men.  From  the 
forward  canoe  a  deep  voice  bawled : 

"American  Fur  ag'in'  th'  world !" 

This  sentiment  was  loudly  cheered.  Bridger, 
who  was  gathering  himself  to  give  the  autocratic 
A.  F.  C.  the  fight  of  its  life,  walked  back  to  the 
water's  edge  and  frowned  thoughtfully  as  he 
watched  the  progress  of  the  second  craft. 

"There's  going  to  be  a  fight.  First  canoe's 
filled  plumb  full  of  A.  F.  C.  men.  Them  two 
most  likely  are  Opposition  men.  They  oughter 
have  some  one  sorter  to  look  after  them.  I'd 
hate  to  be  the  only  stranger  on  the  island  in  a 
crowd  of  A.  F.  C.  men  if  any  blood  was  to  be 
spilled.  I  ain't  got  the  time  but  I  reckon  I'll  drop 
over  an'  just  see  how  it  works  out." 

Searching  up  and  down  the  levee  he  soon  found 
a  small  dugout  and  with  an  improvised  paddle 
made  for  the  end  of  the  island. 

Bridger  was  now  beginning  to  be  recognized 
as  the  foremost  mountain  man  of  his  time.  He 
had  been  schooled  by  General  Ashley,  and  had 


THE  DUEL  57 

trapped  and  explored  every  tributary  of  the  Platte 
and  Yellowstone  with  such  men  as  Lucien  B. 
Maxwell,  Carson,  and  Jim  Baker.  He  was  old 
in  the  ways  of  the  plains  and  mountains  before  he 
became  one  of  the  heads  of  the  Rocky  Mountain 
Fur  Company.  He  had  been  present  at  the  attack 
on  the  villages  of  the  treacherous  Aricaras  in  the 
spring  of  1823,  the  first  campaign  against  trans- 
Mississippi  Indians  conducted  by  a  United  States 
army,  when  Ashley  and  his  veterans  joined  forces 
with  General  Atkinson  and  his  "Missouri  Le- 
gion." The  A.  F.  C.  would  gladly  buy  his  ser- 
vices, being  especially  troubled  and  incensed 
because  he  followed  his  old  chief's  example  of 
taking  trappers  to  the  mountains  without  depend- 
ing upon  the  good-will  of  the  natives,  or  on  set- 
tled trading-posts.  The  powerful  organization 
was  now  prepared  to  fight  him  at  his  own  game 
by  sending  companies  of  men  to  dog  his  steps  and 
compete  with  him  at  every  turn ;  and  in  doing  this 
the  A.  F.  C.  admitted  his/ worth  as  a  trader  and 
advertised  their  fear  of  him  as  an  opponent. 

Bridger  this  night  was  on  the  eve  of  a  battle 
royal  for  beaver,  but  he  had  no  thought  except  for 
the  fight  between  unknown  men  on  Bloody  Is- 
land.    The  sentiment  from  the  leading  canoe. 


58  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

revealing  the  men  were  'A.  F.  C.  sympathizers, 
made  him  keen  to  follow  and  see  that  the  minority 
received  fair  play.  Landing  at  the  nose  of  the 
island  he  pulled  up  his  canoe.  Then  with  a  mas- 
tery of  woodcraft  that  would  have  made  an 
Indian  jealous  he  threaded  his  way  toward  the 
opening  where  the  duels  were  always  fought. 
Before  he  reached  the  spot  he  caught  the  sound 
of  voices,  one  in  particular  being  raised  most 
blatantly. 

*'That  would  be  Tilton,"  he  muttered.  "Owned 
by  the  A.  F.  C.  body  an'  soul,  if  he  happens  to 
have  any  such  thing." 

"I'm  running  this  show!"  Tilton  shouted  as 
Bridger  reached  the  end  of  the  bush  growth  and 
stood  unobserved  in  the  shadows  and  watched  the 
moon-lighted  scene. 

"A  thousand  pardons,  m'sieu/'  remonstrated  a 
soft  voice.  "But  behold,  you  will  run  on  to  my 
knife  if  you  fail  in  courtesy  to  M'sieu  Lander." 

"The  devil !  Young  Lander,  who  wanted  a  job 
with  me!"  muttered  Bridger.  "Wouldn't  go  to 
the  mountains  along  of  leaving  his  girl.  Now  he 
takes  a  chance  on  losing  his  life — an'  all  of  a 
pleasant  evening.  He  must  have  some  spirit 
Mebbe  I  misjudged  him." 


THE  DUEL  59 

"Mister  Phinny,  as  th'  challenged  party,  has 
said  pistols,"  began  Tilton. 

"To  be  sure.  Behold,  it  is  his  right,"  broke  in 
Papa  Clair.  "But  the  distance  and  the  positions 
are  not  for  you  to  name.  We  will  toss  a  coin  for 
position,  and  we  will  decide  between  us  how  far 
apart  they  shall  stand." 

"Oh,  let's  have  it  over  with,"  grumbled  Lander. 
"Give  me  a  pistol  and  stand  the  skunk  before  me. 
If  he  isn't  near  enough  I'll  go  after  him." 

"You'll  find  me  near  enough  to  put  a  ball 
through  your  heart,  or  my  name  ain't  Malcom 
Phinny,"  jeered  the  other  principal. 

"Phinny?"  mused  Bridger.  "The  same  who 
went  to  bring  down  the  Pawnee  trade  to  Cab- 
anne's,  found  them  away  on  a  war-path  and  stole 
their  corn,  and  made  them  believe  it  was  our 
men.'* 

"I  reckon  they  don't  want  any  of  our  fight," 
sneered  one  of  Phinny 's  adherents  from  the  edge 
of  the  grove. 

"Pardon!  Does  m'sieu  want  to  fight?" 
politely  inquired  Papa  Clair,  running  toward  the 
group  in  the  shadows. 

"Keep  that  sticker  'way  from  my  ribs!"  fran- 
tically yelled  the  man. 


6o  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"Come  back  here,  Papa.  This  is  growing  into 
a  joke.  That  swarthy  dog  doesn't  want  to  fight. 
Hurry  or  they'll  be  swimming  back  to  the  city," 
called  out  Lander. 

"My  man  will  fight  at  fifteen  paces,"  snarled 
Tilton. 

"Very  well.  It  is  most  excellent  to  find  he  will 
fight  at  all,"  said  Papa  Clair.  "If  one  stands 
where  M'sieu  Tilton  is  standing,  and  one  here  in 
my  tracks,  the  light  will  be  equal  and  M'sieu  Til- 
ton can  place  his  man  w^ithout  tossing  the  coin." 

"Not  by  a sight !"  growled  Tilton.    Then 

with  a  vicious  laugh :  "This  is  for  blood.  Keep 
yer  Frenchy  perliteness  to  yerself.  We'll  toss  a 
coin.  Th'  winner  picks  any  spot  in  the  openin'  he 
w^ants  to  an'  t'other  man  must  face  him.  Hi,  Bil- 
lings !    Step  out  here  an'  flip  a  coin." 

Bridger  gave  a  low,  amused  laugh  at  the  bald- 
faced  plan  to  do  murder.  Papa  Clair  spat  with  a 
hissing  noise  and  ominously  objected : 

"Be  careful,  M*sieu  Tilton.  Be  very  careful. 
Not  M'sieu  Dillings.  He  has  the  prejudice.  He 
has  said  he  did  not  believe  my  man  wanted  the 
fight.    We  do  not  trust  him.    No." 

"Well,  I  can't  toss  it;  neither  can  ye  toss  it; 


THE  DUEL  6i 

neither  can  Phinny  nor  Lander.  Name  any  one 
ye  want  to/'  affably  replied  Tilton. 

''But  you  all  are  of  the  same,"  protested  Clair. 
"Let  them  stand  as  I  said  with  the  light  fair  for 
both." 

"Ye  keep  on  backin'  water  an'  there  won't  be 
enough  light  to  fight  by,"  warned  a  voice  from 
the  shadows. 

"We  know  our  rights.  Ye  ain't  new  to  this 
game,  Papa  Clair,"  gravely  said  Tilton.  "I  insist 
on  th'  coin  bein'  flipped.  Name  any  man  on  this 
island;  we'll  be  satisfied  an'  never  make  a  yip; 
only  be  quick." 

"You  know  well  we  have  no  friends  here," 
replied  Clair  savagely.  "You  bring  a  crowd  of 
men.    We  two  are  here  alone." 

"And  only  one  of  you  is  going  back,"  taunted 
Phinny. 

"Dog!  Defiler  of  the  sacred  dueling-ground! 
Nom  de  Dieu!  It  is  more  the  murder  trap!" 
shrilly  cried  Clair. 

"Name  some  one  or  Dillings  shall  toss  th' 
coin,"  peremptorily  announced  Tilton. 

"Wouldn't  that  be  pretty  raw,  Tilton?" 
drawled  Bridger,  moving  from  the  bushes. 

The  deep  silence  evidenced  how  greatly  his 


62  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

intrusion  had  jolted  the  men.  Before  any  one 
spoke  or  made  a  move  he  advanced  into  the  open- 
ing and  inquired,  "Will  I  do,  Papa  Clair?'* 

"The  devil  would  do,  rather  than  any  of  these 
A.  F.  C.  men,"  cried  Clair.  "I  can't  see  you  well, 
m'sieu.  Your  voice  is  that  of  some  one  I  have 
known  and  liked.  You  can't  be  an  A.  F.  C.  man. 
Give  your  name." 

"Jim  Bridger.     Do  I  suit?" 

"To  the  sky  and  ground!"  enthusiastically 
exclaimed  Lander. 

"Holy  blue!  Better  than  an  angel!'*  cried 
Papa  Clair. 

"Hold  on  a  minute!"  yelled  Tilton,  still  non- 
plused but  realizing  he  must  say  something.  "I 
reckin  it  ain't  just  reg'lar  for  a'  outsider  to  come 
crowding  like  this.  How  many  ycr  men  hiding 
back  there?" 

"Never  you  mind  my  men,  you  'Ricaree- 
hearted  skunk.  You  and  your  rotten  crowd 
won't  be  hurt  if  you  don't  try  any  dirty  work. 
All  ready?  Here  goes."  The  coin  gHttered  in 
the  moonlight.    Phinny  called  out  anxiously. 

"You  lost,"  announced  Bridger. 

"How  do  we  know  that?"  cried  Tilton. 

Bridger  stood  beside  him  in  two  strides.    The 


THE  DUEL  63 

spectators  could  not  see  just  what  tooW  place,  but 
all  could  hear  Bridger  say : 

''You  heard  me  say  that  your  man  lost  the  call. 
What  do  you  mean  by  your  words  ?  You  making 
off  to  throw  a  doubt  'bout  my  honesty?    Quick !" 

"No,  no,  Mister  Bridger.  I  spoke  afore  I 
thought,'*  gasped  Tilton. 

"Some  time  some  one  will  git  fussed  up  an'  you 
won't  have  time  to  think,"  somberly  warned 
Bridger.  "Lander,  choose  your  position.  You 
can  stand  and  face  anywhere  you  will." 

According  to  Tilton's  own  terms  Lander  could 
have  selected  a  position  in  the  shadows  of  the 
bushes  and  compelled  his  man  to  stand  in  the 
bright  moonlight.  Tilton  expected  him  to  take 
the  advantage,  especially  when  Papa  Clair 
repeated  Tilton's  words,  "This  is  for  blood." 
Lander  hesitated  a  moment,  not  that  he  purposed 
seeking  any  undue  advantage  but  solely  to  make 
Phinny  and  his  followers  squirm. 

"Don't  sweat  any  more,  Phinny,"  he  called  out. 
"I  will  stand  here,  facing  Tilton.  Measure  the 
ground." 

"An'  ril  stand  over  here  near  my  old  friends, 
Dillings  an'  others,  all  good  A.  F.  C.  men," 
chuckled  Bridger,  crossing  to  the  sullen  group. 


64  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"Ah,  now  we  shall  have  a  decent  fight.  Only 
with  the  knife  it  would  be  much  cleaner.  If 
m'sieu  even  now  wishes  to  change  and  fight  with 
the  knife  my  man  will  not  object.  But  of  course 
not  at  the  present  distance." 

"No,  no,"  snarled  Phinny,  taking  a  pistol  from 
Tilton  and  gripping  it  nervously. 

Tilton  stepped  off  the  distance,  Papa  Clair 
mincing  along  at  his  side  to  see  he  did  not  make 
it  more  than  fifteen  paces. 

"Stand  here,  Phinny,"  Tilton  gruffly  called. 
"Shall  I  give  the  word,  Clair?" 

"My  friend,  M'sieu  Bridger,  is  better  to  give 
the  word.    No  one  objects?" 

Tilton  bit  his  lips  but  did  not  object.  Bridger 
was  to  be  reckoned  with  in  more  ways  than  one. 
In  a  physical  contest  there  was  no  one  between 
the  Missouri  and  the  Rockies  who  could  make 
him  hold  back  from  trouble.  He  was  one  who 
never  forgot  a  friend  or  an  injury.  His  power- 
ful personality,  despite  his  lack  of  years,  already 
was  registering  on  St.  Louis.  He  typed  the  ideals 
of  the  fur  trade  that  existed  before  the  A.  F.  C. 
made  its  headquarters  in  St.  Louis  in  1822. 

"I'm  willin'.  It's  only  a  matter  o'  countin'," 
sullenly  replied  Tilton. 


THE  DUEL  65 

"Ah,  men  count,  and  men  count,"  ironically 
murmured  Clair.  **If  M'sieu  Bridger  has  the 
great  politeness  to  favor  us." 

Bridger  strode  to  a  position  midway  between 
the  two  men,  halting  just  out  of  Hne  of  their  fire, 
and  humorously  remarked: 

"I  didn't  come  for  the  job.  But  if  you  all  say 
I  must,  why,  I  must." 

Suddenly  wheeling  to  face  the  men  lined  up 
along  the  bushes  he  hooked  his  fingers  in  his 
belt  and  there  was  no  humor  now  in  his  voice  as 
he  warned: 

"I'll  kill  any  man  or  men  who  break  in  on  this 
game."  Then  to  the  duelists:  "I  shall  slowly 
count  three.    After  the  word  three  you  can  fire." 

"And  I  hold  my  knife  by  the  tip.  My  eyes  are 
watching  M'sieu  Tilton,"  added  Papa  Clair. 

**Yer  s'picions!"  growled  Tilton,  edging  away 
from  his  principal.  "Give  the  word  an'  let's  have 
it  over  with." 

"Make  ready.  Are  you  both  ready?"  called 
out  Bridger  sharply. 

"Ready  here,"  snarled  Phinny. 

"Ready,"  quietly  called  out  Lander. 

"One — two — three,"  slowly  and  distinctly 
counted  Bridger. 


66  KINGS  OF,  THE  MISSOURI 

Phinny  fire'd  wliile  the  last  word  was  being 
tittered,  his  ball  whistling  by  Lander's  ear.  An 
instant  later  Lander  fired,  and  his  opponent  half 
turned,  remained  motionless  for  a  moment,  then 
slumped  down  on  his  knees  and  rolled  over. 

Bridger  started  toward  him,  wrathfully  crying : 

"The  miserable  cur,  to  fire  before  he  got  the 
word!'' 

Tilton  reached  the  prostrate  figure  first  and 
tore  open  his  shirt,  and  cried  out : 

"Plumb  through  th'  heart!" 

Bridger  came  to  a  halt.  All  the  others  stood 
like  stumps  for  a  count  of  five.  Then  Dillings' 
voice  croaked: 

"The  devil's  to  pay  for  this.  Can't  kill  a' 
A.  F.  C  man  like  that!" 

With  a  harsh  laugh  of  triumph  Papa  Clair 
jeered : 

"M'sleu  IS  much  in  the  mistake.  The  A.  F.  C. 
men  can  be  killed  just  like  that." 

There  was  an  uneasy  stirring  by  the  bushes, 
and  the  metallic  click  of  a  pistol  being  cocked 
brought  Bridger's  hands  from  his  belt,  holding 
two  pistols ;  and  he  warned : 

"A  fair  fight  on  Lander's  part.  A  try  at  mur- 
der on  Phinny's  part.     Had  he  killed  Lander  I 


THE  DUEL  67 

should  have  killed  him  for  firing  before  the  word 
was  given.  All  stay;  where  you  are  till  we're 
afloat,  or  more'n  one  corpse  will  be  toted  from 
this  place." 

"If  any  one  is  grieved  and  wishes  to  settle  a 
point  of  honor  with  me,  I  will  remain.  I,  Etienne 
Clair,  an  old  man,"  began  Papa. 

But  Bridger  cut  him  short  by;  fairly  taking  him 
under  his  arm  and  disappearing  among  the  bushes 
with  Lander  at  his  side. 

"You  two  take  your  canoe  an'  paddle  to  the 
foot  of  the  island.  IVe  got  a  canoe  there  an'  will 
join  you  in  a  few  minutes." 

They  jumped  into  their  dugout  and  shot  the 
craft  down-stream.  Bridger  remained  in  the 
narrow  path,  over  which  so  many  vindicators  of 
honor  had  traveled,  and  waited.  From  the  open- 
ing came  a  confused  murmuring  of  many  voices. 
Then  some  one  passionately  cried  out : 

"Is  three  men  to  git  away  like  that  ?  It's  light 
'nough  to  pick  'em  off  in  th'  canoe.    Come  on !" 

There  was  a  rush  of  feet,  a  floundering  about 
in  the  narrow  path,  then  a  precipitate  halt  as 
Bridger  coldly  warned : 

"Stand  back.  A  bullet  for  the  next  man  who 
comes  another  step." 


68  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"Jiin  Bridger!"  ejaculated  one  of  the  men. 

"An'  he's  waiting  to  see  who'll  be  first  to  enter 
his  butcher-shop,"  was  the  grim  reply. 

"We  want  to  take  Phinny  across,"  called  out 
Tilton. 

"No  hurry  in  his  case.  Stick  where  you  are 
for  a  few  minutes." 

With  this  warning  Bridger  noiselessly  slipped 
into  cover  and  swiftly  retreated  to  the  shore  and 
peered  down-stream.  The  dugout  was  not  in 
sight.  He  waited  a  couple  of  minutes  for  good 
measure,  and  then  announced : 

"I'll  count  twenty,  slow-like,  then  the  path  is 
open." 

The  men  waited  for  him  to  commence  count- 
ing. But  he  had  ducked  into  the  bushes  and  was 
following  the  path  which  skirted  the  shore,  and 
soon  came  to  where  he  had  left  his  canoe.  Hold- 
ing their  dugout  stationary  by  grasping  some 
overhanging  branches  Papa  Clair  and  Lander 
were  waiting  for  him.  Pushing  off  his  canoe  and 
leaping  in  he  softly  cautioned : 

"Git  work  out  of  your  paddles.  They're 
skunks,  but  there's  a  full  dozen  of  'em ;  an'  a  bul- 
let from  a  coward's  gun  might  kill  the  bravest 
man  that  ever  lived." 


THE  DUEL  69 

He  led  the  way  and  it  was  not  until  they  were 
nearing  the  levee  that  they  discerned  the  other 
dugout  slowly  making  the  crossing.  As  they 
landed  and  hurriedly  walked  up  the  levee  Bridger 
said:  "The  man  Dillings  'lowed  there'd  be  trou- 
ble. I  reckon  he  was  right  so  far  as  our  young 
friend  is  mixed  in  it,  Papa." 

*Tt  was  a  fair  fight.  No  one  can  bother  him," 
said  Clair. 

"He  won't  be  bothered  by  the  law  but  he'll  be 
a  marked  man  so  long  as  that  band  of  wolves 
feels  fretted  over  to-night's  work.  Some  day 
he'll  turn  up  missing.  Mebbe  not  to-morrow  or 
next  day,  but  soon.  He  must  quit  town  for  a  spell 
if  he  wants  to  keep  on  living." 

*T  must  see  some  one  before  I  quit  town,"  said 
Lander,  his  mind  in  a  whirl. 

"All  right.  You  oughter  know  your  own  busi- 
ness best.  But  the  chances  is  you'll  never  grow 
up  an'  die  an'  leave  her  a  widder.  But  that's 
your  game." 

"M'sicti  Bridger  is  right  as  he  always  is  right," 
sighed  Papa  Clair.  "If  they  had  fought  with 
knives  no  one  would  make  trouble.  If  those  who 
want  to  pick  up  the  quarrel  would  come  out  in  the 
open  like  men  you  should  stay  and  meet  them  one 


yo  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

by  one,  always  choosing  knives,  as  you  would  be 
the  challenged  party.  But  a  shot  in  the  dark,  a 
knife- thrust  while  you  sleep!  Bah,  the  savages! 
My  young  friend,  y6u  must  leave  St.  Louis." 

"He  must  go  to-night,"  added  Bridger. 

"Go  ?    Where  to  ?"  asked  Lander. 

"Up  or  down  the  river,"  retorted  the  old  man. 

"With  no  work  ahead  of  him  an'  probably 
without  much  money,"  mused  Bridger.  "No; 
that  won't  do.  They  could  trail  him  easy  an' 
find  the  killing;  better  down-river  than  right  here 
in  St.  Louis.  This  is  the  best  way;  go  across 
country  an'  make  St.  Charles  by  morning.  Some 
of  my  men  are  there,  waiting  for  the  rest  of  the 
band  to  join  'em.  Etienne  Prevost  is  there  with 
a  keelboat.  He'll  take  the  boat  up  to  Lexington 
an'  some  of  the  men  will  keep  abreast  of  him  with 
the  mules.  The  mules  are  for  the  band  at  Lex- 
ington who  are  to  go  overland  while  Prevost 
takes  the  boat  on  up  to  Fort  Pierre.  You  can  go 
on  the  keelboat  from  St.  Charles  to  Lexington, 
or  you  can  stick  along  with  the  men  driving  the 
mules.  By  the  time  you  reach  Lexington  you'll 
have  made  up  your  mind  whether  you'll  stick  to 
the  boat  an'  go  to  Fort  Pierre,  or  make  straight 
for  the  mountains  with  the  land  party.     I  shall 


THE  DUEL  71 

ride  'cross-country  an'  join  or  catcH  up  with  the 
land  party  at  Lexington.  Once  in  the  mountains 
all  A.  F.  C.  influence  this  side  of  judgment  day 
can't  make  you  budge,  but  mebbe  a  Injun  will 
dance  your  sculp." 

"If  I  must  go,  I  must,''  sighed  Lander.  "I'll 
start  at  once,  but  I  must  write  a  letter  first — and 
get  it  delivered." 

"I'll  act  for  you,  my  friend,"  promptly  offered 
Papa  Clair.  "Holy  blue !  What  is  to  become  of 
me  after  you  are  gone  ?  No  more  evening  lessons 
....  Yet  behold,  you  know  about  all  I  can  teach. 
No  more  evening  walks  down  by  Chouteau's  old 
grist-mill.    I  have  lived  my  day." 

"I'll  be  back  inside  of  two  years  if  I'm  lucky," 
lugubriously  consoled  Lander. 

"Too  much  talk,"  snapped  Bridger.  "That 
gang  has  landed.  No  knowing  when  they  may 
strike  your  trail.  Git  about  your  letter-writing. 
Pretty  soon  they  may  be  combing  the  city  for  you. 
I'll  hitch  a  mule  back  of  my  store.  I'm  off  at 
once  to  make  Lexington.  You  can  make  St. 
Charles  by  morning  easy.  Don't  stop  to  git  any 
outfit.  Just  take  your  gun  an'  ride  like  the  devil. 
Prevost  will  outfit  you.  Tell  him  I  sent  you — 
that  I'm  on  my  way  to  Lexington." 


^2  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"Would  Tilton  dare  to  attack  me  here  in  the 
city?  Isn't  there  any  law  in  St.  Louis?  Or  can 
the  friends  of  the  A.  F.  C.  do  just  as  they  want 
to?'*  demanded  Lander,  beginning  to  grow 
wrathy  at  the  prospects  of  enforced  flight. 

"Oh,  Tilton  isn't  anybody's  fool,"  assured 
Bridger.  "He  won't  appear  in  what  happens  in 
St.  Louis.  But  there's  a  choice  collection  of  mur- 
derers an'  robbers  hanging  around  his  saloon 
who'll  do  any  dirty  work  for  a  prime  beaverskin. 
If  they  slip  up  on  the  job  Tilton  won't  be  dragged 
in.    He'll  just  send  out  another  gang  after  you." 

They  parted,  Bridger  going  to  procure  a  mule 
for  the  fugitive,  the  latter  and  Papa  Clair  hurry- 
ing to  the  Market  Street  room.  Here  Lander 
wrote  a  long  letter,  explaining  his  plight  and  vow- 
ing his  undying  love,  and  pleading  for  Miss 
Susette  to  wait  for  him.  While  he  wrote  Papa 
Clair  laid  out  his  rifle  and  trappings.  With  a 
long-drawn  sigh  Lander  finished,  sanded  and 
sealed  the  missive  and  handed  it  to  Papa  Clair, 
and  was  asking  his  friend  how  he  proposed  to 
deliver  it  unsuspected  by  Hurry-Up  Parker,  when 
the  old  man  stuffed  the  letter  inside  his  coat, 
clutched  Lander  by  the  arm  and  with  his  free 
hand  extinguished  the  light. 


The  old  man  stuffed  the  letter  in  his  pocket  and  extinguished 

the  light. 


THE  DUEL  73 

"The  devil!''  faintly  ejaculated  Lander,  rub- 
bing his  eyes  in  the  darkness. 

"No,  men.  On  the  stairs,"  softly;  whispered 
Papa. 

"Tilton?"  whispered  Lander,  fumbling  round 
and  securing  his  rifle  and  slipping  on  his  belt, 
powder-horn  and  other  hunting  accouterments. 

"No  such  luck.  Men  sent  by;  him.  Men  he 
will  wash  his  hands  of  if  they  blunder.  They're 
working  for  blood-money.  Stand  here  with  me 
behind  the  door." 

They  leaned  against  the  wall  and  listened.  Till 
now  Lander  had  heard  nothing.  With  his  ear  to 
the  wall  he  fancied  he  caught  the  sound  of  soft 
footsteps  stealing  to  the  door.  Papa  Clair  caught 
him  by  the  ear  and  dragged  down  his  head  and 
murmured : 

"There  are  twelve  or  more — only  six  apiece.  I 
hear  some  still  coming  up  the  stairs.  When  they 
come  in  keep  behind  me.  We  must  get  into  the 
hall  and  put  out  the  light." 

"We  can  go  down  the  back  way." 

"Much  better.  I  see  your  head  is  clear.  They 
will  be  sure  to  have  men  posted  at  the  bottom  of 
the  front  stairs.    Now  be  ready." 

An  audible  shuffling  outside  the  door  heraldec' 


74  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

the  coming  attack.  There  followed  a  few  seconds 
of  silence;  then  Lander  jumped  spasmodically 
as  a  volley  of  heavy  balls  riddled  the  panels  of  the 
door,  smashed  in  the  wall  beyond  and  shattered 
the  window.  With  the  discharge  of  firearms 
there  came  a  rush  of  heavy  bodies  against  the 
none-too-strong  door,  and  in  swept  the  mob  of 
professional  killers.  The  one  light  in  the  hall 
burned  dimly  and  was  at  the  top  of  the  stairs  some 
twenty  feet  away.  It  barely  dispelled  the  thick 
gloom  of  the  room. 

The  first  two  men  in  were  now  at  the  bed,  stab- 
bing furiously.  One  man  wheeled  and  blundered 
into  the  couple  crouching  behind  the  door  waiting 
for  a  chance  to  dart  into  the  hall.  The  blunderer 
screamed  and  fell  writhing  to  the  floor.  Papa 
Clair  dived  into  the  group,  horribly  active  and 
efficient.  Lander  with  his  rifle  in  one  hand  and 
knife  in  the  other  kept  behind  him. 

Instantly  the  room  was  choked  with  yells  and 
curses.  Blows  were  showered  on  the  two  at  ran- 
dom, and  Lander's  upraised  rifle  proved  an  excel- 
lent buckler.  Some  of  the  blows,  bHndly 
bestowed,  fell  on  the  intruders.  Pistols  were  dis- 
charged at  close  range,  but  the  darkness  of  the 
room  prevented  accuracy  of  execution. 


THE  DUEL  75 

Neither  Clair  nor  Lander  had  time  to  distin- 
guish individuals.  With  their  eyes  more  accus- 
tomed to  the  darkness  they  made  out  a  frantic 
mass  of  milling  men,  and  thrust  their  knives  at 
random  where  they  found  their  way  blocked  by 
the  surging  bodies. 

"To  the  door!"  yelled  Lander  to  recall  Papa 
Clair  from  his  Berserk  rage. 

The  old  man  remembered  their  purpose  was  to 
escape  and  shifted  his  advance,  swinging  his 
knife  in  an  arc  before  him  and  leaving  it  for  his 
pupil  to  guard  the  flanks.  When  first  precipi- 
tated into  the  conflict  Lander  was  heart-sick  at 
the  thought  of  bloodshed ;  now  he  was  committed 
to  it.  Once  he  had  heard  the  grunts  of  the 
two  stabbing  the  empty  bed,  he  knew  only  one 
sensation,  to  hack  his  way  clear  of  the  beasts  who 
for  a  few  pieces  of  silver  had  come  to  murder  an 
inoffensive  stranger. 

Cursing  and  screaming,  the  hired  assassins 
found  their  very  numbers  blocking  them.  Then 
one  voice  rose  above  the  hubbub,  yelling: 

"That  ol'  devil  of  a  Clair's  here !  Look  out  f er 
that  knife!" 

"In  your  throat!"  shrilly  cried  Papa  Clair,  and 
he  seemed  to  straighten  out  in  mid-air,  his  knife- 


ye  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

point  darting  an  incredible  distance.  His  tra- 
ducer  went  down,  choking  and  coughing. 

Lander  brought  his  knife  back  in  a  wide  slash 
that  sent  the  crowding  assailants  reeling  back  for 
a  moment,  and  with  a  rush  carried  Papa  through 
the  door  and  to  the  head  of  the  stairs.  After 
them  came  those  still  able  to  walk.  With  a  swing 
of  his  rifle  he  knocked  the  light  to  the  floor  and 
the  hall  was  in  darkness. 

Papa  turned  to  renew  the  fight  but,  putting  up 
his  knife,  Lander  swept  him  from  his  feet  and 
carried  him  down  the  hall.  The  desperadoes  took 
it  for  granted  their  quarry  had  descended  the 
main  stairs  to  the  street,  and  they  called  for  the 
lookout  at  the  outer  door  to  stop  them.  As  they 
rushed  down  the  stairs  Lander  sighed  in  relief 
and  led  the  way  down  the  rear  stairs. 

"Bridger  was  right,"  said  Lander  as  they  stole 
through  the  dark  streets.  "Tilton  and  his  gang 
will  never  be  satisfied  until  they  get  me." 

"The  more  so,  my  friend,  because  M'sieu  Brid- 
ger  appeared  in  the  affair  as  your  champion. 

Yes,  you  must  go But  life  stops  for  old  Papa 

Clair  after  youVe  gone.  Yet  behold,  you  should 
have  gone  before.  The  time  for  wooing  is  after 
the  long  trail  has  been  covered,  when  your  buck- 


THE  DUEL  ^7 

skin  garments  are  so  worn  no  one  can  tell  what 
they  are  made  of.  To  come  back  and  say:  T 
have  seen  life.  I  have  lived  and  fought  my  way 
among  men  and  savages.'  Ah,  that  is  the  speech 
that  makes  m'm'selle  very  proud.  K  woman  likes 
to  discover  things  in  the  man  she  loves,  not  to 
know  him  as  we  know  the  way  from  here  to 
Petite  Cote.  Her  love  is  like  an  old  mountain 
man — always  hungry  for  something  new." 

"Eighteen  months !"  muttered  Lander,  more  to 
himself  than  to  Papa  Clair. 

"The  months  will  pass.  Come  snow,  go  snow. 
What  profit  could  you  squeeze  out  of  them  if  you 
stayed  here  and  worked  in  a  store  ? 

"Life  is  a  bag  of  months.  Fortune  is  w^iat  a 
man  squeezes  out  of  them.  To  get  his  satisfy  he 
must  squeeze  each  month  very  hard.  If  he  can't 
get  love  he  gets  gold.  If  neither  love  nor  gold 
he  can  at  least  get  red-blooded  life.  Fortune  may 
play  tricks  with  him;  m'm'selle  may  turn  from 
him,  but  life,  real  and  burning,  can  always  be  his." 

"Yes,  yes;  of  course,"  mumbled  Lander,  in  a 
poor  mood  for  the  comforts  of  philosophy. 
"Now  you  must  leave  me.  Deliver  the  letter  to 
Susette  in  the  morning.  I  must  hurry  to  Brid- 
ger's  store  and  get  the  mule." 


7%  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"The  little  lady  shall  have  the  letter  early  in 
the  morning.  ODo  not  doubt  it.  My  friend,  al- 
ways wear  my  knife  arid  scabbard.  Do  not, 
unless  hard  pressed  by  several,  uncover  yourself 
with  those  wide,  slashing  movements  you  used  in 
the  room.  Keep  behind  the  point,  and  God  bless 
you." 

Instead  of  taking  Lander's  outstretched  hand 
he  seized  him  by  the  shoulders  and  kissed  him  on 
both  cheeks. 

Lander  almost  winced  in  his  surprise,  then 
remembered  the  Frenchman's  emotional  nature, 
also  his  ferocity  as  a  fighting  man,  and  for  the 
first  time  during  the  day  found  himself  thinking 
of  some  one  besides  himself  and  Susette.  The 
slight,  frail  figure  and  the  snowy  hair  contrasted 
vividly  with  the  indomitable  will  and  high  heart. 
He  realized  he  had  been  Papa  Clair's  only  inti- 
mate, perhaps  the  only  close  friend  the  old  man 
had  known  for  many  years. 

"Good-by,  Papa.  God  knows  I  am  grateful  for 
all  you've  done  for  me.  Sometime  we'll  meet 
again." 

"A  year  and  a  half  will  go  quicker  for  an  old 
man  than  for  youth  waiting  for  his  sweetheart. 
I  shall  be  here,  looking  for  you  when  the  men 


THE  DUEU  79 

come  back  from  the  mountains Remember 

and  keep  behind  the  point,  I  shall  think  of  you 
much ....  Only  clumsy  fools  try  to  see  how  much 
blood  they  can  let  loose  with  a  knife  with  their 
cutting  and  slashing." 

There  was  more,  but  he  had  turned  away  and 
the  words  were  lost  in  his  throat. 

Lander,  too,  felt  very  lonely  as  he  made  for  the 
Washington  Avenue  store.  He  found  the  mule 
hitched  at  the  rear  of  the  dark  building.  Mount- 
ing and  holding  his  rifle  ready  to  repulse  any 
attack,  he  rode  to  the  plain  back  of  the  city  and 
swung  into  the  north  for  his  dash  to  St.  Charles. 


Chapter  IV 

THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BULLIES 

'T^HE  hamlet  of  St.  Charles  was  lazily  bestir- 
*  ring  itself  along  its  one  straggling  street 
when  Lander  rode  his  tired  mule  down  to  the 
river  and  signaled  for  the  ferry-man  to  come  and 
take  him  across.  After  some  delay  the  man 
showed  up  and  with  much  mumbling  and  grumb- 
ling set  his  passenger  and  the  mule  across. 

Passing  down  the  one  street  Lander  followed 
the  shore  till  he  came  to  a  seventy-five-foot  keel- 
boat,  the  cargo  box  filling  the  body  with  the 
exception  of  some  ten  feet  at  each  end.  The 
thousand  feet  of  towing  rope  was  coiled  in  the 
bow  as  the  steamer  from  St.  Louis  would  arrive 
during  the  day  and  tow  it  as  far  as  Lexington. 
From  there  Bridger's  boatman  under  the  crisp 
direction  of  Etienne  Prevost  would  cordelle  and 
pole  it  to  Fort  Pierre,  near  the  mouth  of  the 
Teton,  or  Bad  River.     Once  they  got  above  the 

80 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BULLIES     8i 

mouth  of  the  James  the  boating  would  be  easier 
than  on  the  lower  river. 

Lander  was  decided  to  stick  to  the  boat  as  the 
long  reaches  of  the  mighty  stream  fascinated  him. 
In  the  fall  of  the  previous  year  Kenneth  McKen- 
zie,  the  greatest  trader  ever  employed  by  the 
A'.  F.  C,  whose  name  will  always  be  associated 
with  the  Upper  Missouri  outfit  stationed  at  Fort 
Union  above  the  Yellowstone,  wrote  to  the  New 
York  headquarters  of  the  company  that  the 
steamboat  "would  permit  of  their  keeping  their 
men  in  the  Indian  country  and  paying  the  greater 
part  of  their  wages  in  merchandise  instead  of  in 
cash."  In  other  words  the  company  planned  to 
pay  wages  in  merchandise  at  three  and  four  hun- 
dred per  cent,  advance  on  the  cost.  Lander  had 
heard  this  plan  talked  over  at  the  store  and  might 
have  hesitated  to  go  up-river  as  an  engage  for  the 
company.  But  going  by  boat  up-river  to  Fort 
Pierre  and  ultimately  joining  Bridger  in  the 
mountains  was  a  different  proposition  and  his 
soul  kindled  to  it. 

Could  he  have  but  known  it  Lander  was  two 
years  inside  the  beginning  of  that  period  of  inva- 
sion of  the  great  trans-Mississippi  territory.  Of 
course  there  had  been  journeyings  to  the  moun- 


S2  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

tains  and  back  and  several  government  explor- 
ing parties  prior  to  1829.  There  also  had  grown 
up  a  brisk  trade  with  Santa  Fe.  But  the  epoch  of 
great  travel  was  made  possible  by  the  coming  of 
steam  to  the  Missouri  as  a  permanent  factor  in 
1829. 

The  New  Englanders  required  two  hundred 
years  to  reach  the  Mississippi.  Even  at  that 
they  passed  through  immense  areas  without  paus- 
ing to  explore  thoroughly,  let  alone  settle  them. 
Yet  within  eighteen  years  from  the  morning  Lan- 
der rode  his  borrowed  mule  into  sleepy  St. 
Charles,  the  steamboat  on  the  Missouri  was  to  be 
responsible  for  a  quarter  of  a  million  square  miles 
of  the  Oregon  country  being  settled.  Within  the 
same  period  more  than  half  a  million  square  miles 
were  to  be  sliced  off  from  Mexico,  with  Ameri- 
cans occupying  a  thousand  miles  of  the  Pacific 
coast.  This  expansion  was  even  to  surpass  the 
overnmning  of  Europe  by  eastern  hordes. 

Lander  tarried  by  the  boat  although  the  moun- 
tain men  and  boatmen  were  camped  near  by. 
Two  thoughts  now  popped  into  his  mind,  and 
neither  had  to  do  with  migrations:  his  love  for 
Susette  and  a  commercial  inspiration.  Although 
a  mountain  man  only  in  embryo  he  had  no  vision 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BULLIES     83 

of  a  mighty  people  flooding  the  West.  If  he 
became  a  mountain  man  a  settled  condition  would 
be  the  last  destiny  he  would  wish  for  his  country. 
Trappers  were  one  with  the  Indians  in  wishing 
the  land  to  remain  as  it  was  with  wild  life  flour- 
ishing and  multiplying. 

Lander  thought  tenderly  of  Susette,  then 
jumped  from  his  mule  to  examine  the  keelboat 
more  critically  and  to  wonder  why  such  craft 
must  be  made  in  Cincinnati,  Louisville  or  Pitts- 
burgh. It  now  came  home  to  him  that  had  he  not 
mixed  up  in  the  duel  and  killed  his  man  he  might 
have  secured  a  little  capital  and  from  his  own 
"navy  yard''  turned  out  keelboats  and  taken  a 
rare  profit. 

"But  if  not  for  the  fight  I'd  probably  hung 
round  town,  somebody's  hired  man,"  he  morosely 
told  himself  as  he  led  his  mule  over  the  slight 
ridge  to  where  Bridger's  men  were  camped. 

A  chorus  of  yells  accelerated  his  pace  and  he 
soon  beheld  some  twenty  men  singing  and  danc- 
ing around  their  morning  fires  while  nearly  as 
many  more  were  crawling  from  their  blankets 
and  cursing  the  hilarity  of  their  mates.  A  slim, 
wiry-built  man  walked  among  them,  counting  off 
on  his  fingers  to  check  them  up. 


84  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"Where  is  Long  Simons?  Is  the  fool  still  in 
St.  Louis?  Then  he  stays  there,  and  we  shall 
have  to  elect  a  new  bully  for  this  trip,"  remarked 
the  slim  man. 

"Bah!  That  Long  Simons  don't  rare  on  his 
hind-legs  when  I  go  by,"  growled  a  big  hulk  of  a 
fellow. 

"Ye  never  did  go  fo'  to  give  him  no  battle, 
Porker,"  drawled  a  lazy  southern  voice,  and  a 
young  man  with  deep  marks  of  dissipation  on  his 
face  raised  himself  from  his  blankets  and  threw 
back  his  long  black  hair. 

"I'll  give  ye  a  battle,  ye  whelp !"  roared  Porker, 
rushing  at  the  prostrate  youth. 

The  other  came  to  his  feet  like  a  cat,  a  knife 
flashing  in  his  hand,  his  white  teeth  gleaming 
wolfishly. 

"Hold,  hold!  T,  Etienne  Prevost,  will  shoot 
the  man  who  makes  the  first  move."  And  Lan- 
der knew  he  was  gazing  at  a  celebrated  mountain 
man,  one  of  the  galaxy  w^hich  had  graduated 
under  'Ashley  while  a  mere  youth.  "You  shall  all 
have  a  chance  to  show  your  mettle.  We'll  settle 
the  question  before  we  start.  The  red  belt  is  in 
my  pack ;  but  no  knife-play.  Hunter,  put  up  that 
knife.'' 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BULLIES    85 

"Go  to  ' !"  snarled  Hunter,  bending  half 

double  and  beginning  to  circle  about  the  mighty 
Porker  who  now  showed  signs  of  fear. 

"Put  up  that  knife,  you  fool!  Haven't  you 
sweat  the  rum  out  of  you  yet?"  cried  Prevost. 

With  a  snarl  Hunter  ducked  forward.  Porker 
turned  to  run  and  secure  a  weapon  and  sprawled 
on  his  face.  Hunter  was  astride  of  him  in  a  sec- 
ond with  the  knife  raised.  Lander  felt  his 
stomach  revolting  at  the  sight  of  murder  all  but 
committed.  Then  Prevost  fired,  and  with  a  yelp 
of  pain  and  rage  Hunter  tottered  to  his  feet, 
clasping  his  right  wrist. 

"Go  back  to  St.  Louis,  you  trouble-maker.  Go 
join  the  A.  F.  C.  We  don't  want  you,"  coldly 
advised  Prevost  as  he  began  reloading  his  pistol. 

"Etienne  Prevost,  I'll  kill  you  for  this," 
screamed  Hunter. 

"Mebbe.  But  go  back  to  St.  Louis  and  w^ait 
for  your  broken  wrist  to  mend.  If  you  will  come 
with  me  I'll  fix  it  up  until  you  can  get  treated  in 
town." 

"If  I  step  aside  with  you  it'll  be  fo'  to  knife  you 
with  my  left  hand,"  gritted  Hunter,  tying  his 
handkerchief  around  his  neck  for  a  sling  and 
walking  away. 


86  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"Good  riddance!"  growled  Prevost.  Then  he 
turned  and  beheld  Lander  staring  wide-eyed  on 
the  scene. 

"Who  are  you?  What  do  you  want?"  Pre- 
vost roughly  demanded,  walking  up  to  him  and 
surveying  him  sharply.  "You  don't  belong  to 
this  outfit." 

"Mr.  Bridger  sent  me  here  to  join  it," 
explained  Lander.  "Said  I  could  go  with  the 
boat  or  with  the  land  party  at  Lexington." 

"Who  are  you?" 

Lander  told  him  and  added  that  he  had  been 
employed  by  the  A.  F.  C.  until  the  day  before. 

"If  Jim  Bridger  knew  that  he  never  would  'a' 
sent  you.  We  don't  want  any  A.  F.  C.  spies  with 
us." 

The  men  began  crowding  forward  ominously. 
One  man  suggested  they  duck  him  in  the  river. 
Another  advised  tying  him  to  his  mule  and  driv- 
ing the  animal  into  the  river.  Lander  laid  his 
rifle  across  the  saddle  and  reaching  down  pulled 
his  knife  from  his  boot. 

"I  may  not  be  very  welcome  here,"  he  said. 
"But  some  one  is  going  to  get  killed  before  I'm 
"ducked  or  tied  to  any  mule." 

Porker,  who  now  recovered  something  of  his 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BULLIES  ^7 

former  aplomb  and  fearing  he  had  lost  caste 
because  of  his  mishap  with  Hunter,  swaggered 
forward  with  a  camp-ax  in  his  hand  and  loudly 
called  out : 

"Ev'ry  one  step  aside.  I'll  cut  this  young  roos- 
ter's comb. . .  .Gawdfreyl" 

He  came  to  an  abrupt  halt  and  rubbed  his  chin 
and  grinned  foolishly.    To  Prevost  he  explained : 

"This  hyar  younker  is  th'  one  what  did  for  Mai 
Phinny  of  th'  A.  F.  C.  outfit.  Killed  him  las' 
night  in  a  fight  on  Bloody  Island.  All  St.  Louis 
heard  about  it  just  as  I  was  leavin'  Tilton's  bar 
to  git  here  on  time." 

"Then  he  done  a  mighty  good  job.  Wish  he'd 
done  for  ol'  Parker,"  shouted  one  of  the  men, 
relaxing  into  a  peaceful  attitude.  "If  ye  done 
that  Malcom  skunk  ye  needn't  bother  to  keep  yer 
gun  p'inted  this  way,  Mister  Doolest." 

"Jim  Bridger  know  about  the  fight?"  inquired 
Prevost,  his  voice  shading  off  into  courtesy. 

"He  gave  the  word  for  us  to  fire,"  replied 
Lander  without  shifting  his  rifle  or  relaxing  his 
watchfulness. 

"Then  we've  had  enough  of  this  hoss-play," 
said  Prevost.  "S'long  as  Bridger  sent  you,  then 
you  must  belong.     But  I  want  to  say  right  now 


88  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

that  there's  altogether  too  much  cock-a-doodle- 
dooing  here  to  suit  me.  I  reckon  you  all  need  to 
be  blooded  a  bit.  I  ain't  heard  nothing  for  forty- 
eight  hours  except  fighting  talk.  WeVe  just 
about  time  to  settle  this  business  before  the  steam- 
boat gits  here.  One  of  you  is  best  man  and  is  to 
carry  the  pipe  and  wear  the  bully's  red  belt. 
Hurry  up  and  put  your  weapons  one  side.  Keel- 
boat  style,  except  biting  and  eye-gouging.  Every 
man  who's  shot  off  his  yawp  is  going  to  be  licked 
or  be  a  champion." 

Lander  restored  the  knife  to  his  boot,  dropped 
the  rifle  in  the  hollow  of  his  arm  and  said : 

"You  can  count  me  out.  I  ain't  any  hankering 
to  wear  your  red  belt." 

"You'll  fight  when  it  comes  your  turn,"  Pre- 
vost  coldly  warned.  "I  never  started  for  the 
mountains  yet  without  first  gitting  all  the  bile  out 
of  a  man's  system.  And  you're  too  quick  to  stand 
folks  off  with  guns  and  knives.  Right  now, 
before  the  steamer  comes,  we're  going  to  decide 
who's  who  for  this  whole  trip.  Porker,  seeing 
as  you're  'lowed  to  be  champion  in  place  of  Long 
Simons " 

"Whoopee!"  bawled  a  heavy  voice  back  in  the 
village  street. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BULLIES     89 

The  group  turned  and  beheld  a  rangy-built  man 
riding  toward  them  on  a  vicious-looking  mule. 
The  newcomer  waved  his  arms  and  loudly 
announced : 

"Here  I  be.  More  'gator  than  man.  Strong- 
er'n  a  buf'ler  in  a  pushin*  match.  Hungry  as  a 
grizzly  for  a  huggin'  match.  I've  got  panther 
blood  in  my  body,  an'  th'  teeth  of  a  mountain 
lion.  IVe  come  to  hurt  somebody  powerful  bad. 
I  wore  th'  red  belt  to  th'  mountains  on  th'  last 
trip,  an'  I'll  wear  it  again." 

Porker  stared  at  him  vmeasily,  then  brightened 
as  he  observed  the  champion  was  swerving  from 
side  to  side  as  if  half  drunk. 

"So  you  did  manage  to  make  it,  eh  ?"  growled 
Prevost.  "A  little  more  and  it  would  have  been 
your  last  trip  with  the  Rocky;  Mountain  Fur 
outfit." 

",Ye  couldn't  keep  me  back  any  more'n  yer  bare 
hands  could  hold  a  buf'ler  bull  back  from  water," 
drunkenly  boasted  Long  Simons,  dismounting 
and  standing  unsteadily.  "I'd  'a'  been  here 
sooner  but  I  met  Hunter  who'd  had  trouble  with 
his  arm.  Stopped  to  fix  his  sling  for  him.  He 
hit  for  St.  Louis,  leavin'  a  trail  o'  brimstun  an' 
sulfur  behind  him.     Boss,  don't  tell  me  th'  red 


90  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

belt's  been  fit  for  an'  won.  If  it  has  I'll  scruncfi 
th'  man  that  has  it." 

"You're  in  time,"  snapped  Prevost.  "That's 
more'n  I  can  say  of  your  condition." 

He  then  counted  the  men  and  found  the  tally 
satisfactory.  The  question  of  physical  superiority 
was  usually  settled  and  the  red  belt  awarded  at 
the  start  of  the  trip.  This  absorbed  the  fighting 
spirit  of  the  men  and  allowed  them  to  stick  to 
their  work  without  bickerings.  With  Prevost 
these  annual  battles  meant  more  efficiency  during 
the  long  trip  to  the  mountains  and  back,  a  sort  of 
clearing-house  for  distemper  and  private  feuds. 
Glancing  over  the  company  he  said : 

"As  it  seems  to  lay  betw^een  Long  Simons  and 
Porker  you  other  boys  can  git  ready  and  find  out 
who's  the  tw^o  best  among  you.  Hurry  it  along. 
[A^ny  feller  showing  the  white  feather  will  be 
booted  into  the  river.  All  belts  and  weapons  back 
there  by  my  tent.  No  biting  or  eye-digging.  No 
bone-breaking  after  a  man's  beat." 

Lander  had  heard  of  these  contests  but  Had 
never  been  brought  face  to  face  with  the  facts. 
His  eyes  opened  widely  as  two  men  clinched  the 
minute  Prevost  ceased  speaking  and  rolled  over 
the   grass    fighting   like   tiger   cats.    Obviously 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BULLIES    91 

there  was  bad  blood  between  the  two  and  they  had 
waited  hungrily  until  the  boss  gave  the  word; 
now  fought  to  hurt,  to  maim,  all  but  to  kill. 

Lander  had  seen  street  fights  in  St.  Louis  but 
none  that  were  so  cold-bloodedly  ferocious  as 
this.  It  impressed  him  as  being  more  deadly  than 
an  exchange  of  shots  on  Bloody  Island.  As  he 
followed  the  wheel  of  legs  and  arms  another 
couple  fell  to. 

In  this  abrupt  fashion,  with  no  preliminaries  to 
gloss  the  proceedings,  those  men  who  had  antipa- 
thies to  settle  immediately  came  to  blows  and 
clinches.  Then  more  slowly  followed  those  who 
had  no  grievances  to  settle.  Once  committed  to 
battle  the  latter  quickly  discovered  their  blood 
was  hot  and  responded  to  the  primitive  lust. 

Inside  of  ten  minutes  only  Prevost,  Long 
Simons,  Porker  and  Lander  were  left  standing. 
It  was  brutal  work.  Prevost  glided  among  the 
combatants,  pulling  one  off  his  man  to  prevent 
murder,  urging  another  to  a  greater  resistance, 
kicking  a  jaw  that  was  endeavoring  to  bite  into  a 
bronzed  neck,  stabilizing  the  melee  so  his  loss  of 
man-power  would  be  the  minimum  and  involve 
nothing  more  serious  than  a  broken  bone. 

After  twenty  minutes  the  defeated  were  crawl- 


92  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

ing  or  staggering  to  the  river  to  wash  their 
wounds,  and  the  victors  were  panting  and  eying 
one  another  wolfishly. 

"Ten  minutes'  rest,  then  you  what's  left  double 
up  and  go  at  it,"  ruled  Prevost. 

"I'll  take  on  this  new  feller,"  spoke  up  one  of 
the  victors,  and  he  leered  malevolently  at  Lander. 

"He's  your  meat,"  promptly  ruled  Prevost. 
"First  come,  first  served."  It  was  an  old  game 
for  him,  this  umpiring  of  forty  fighting  men  all 
in  action  at  the  same  time.  He  supervised  it  with 
the  same  precision  and  unconcern  he  would  ex- 
hibit in  tying  up  a  pack  of  beaver. 

"But  I  don't  hanker  to  figure  as  a  champion," 
said  Lander. 

"Ye  won't  be  no  champion,  or  anywhere  near 
it,"  chuckled  the  man  who  had  challenged  him. 
"Don't  ye  fret  any." 

Prevost's  thin  face  wrinkled  in  disgust  as  he 
turned  on  Lander. 

"If  that's  your  style,  if  you're  afeared  of  a  lit- 
tle scrimmage  among  your  friends,  you  ain't  no 
man  to  go  into  the  Blackfoot  country,  not  even  if 
Jim  Bridger  did  send  you,"  he  grunted.  "Hook 
on  to  Rummy  there  or  hit  the  trail  for  St.  Louis." 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BULLIES     93 

Lander  felt  a  sudden  rage  boiling  up  in  his 
heart  against  the  leering  Rummy.  The  brutality 
of  the  spectacle  coming  on  top  of  the  duel  and  the 
night's  hard  ride  had  sapped  his  fighting  spirit. 
But  Prevost's  disdain  was  a  spur  that  dug  him 
cruelly.  While  the  time-honored  custom  of  fight- 
ing the  fight  out  of  the  men  was  a  sound  one  he 
could  not  see  how  it  should  apply  to  him,  a 
stranger,  who  had  evidenced  no  desire  to  bully 
any  one. 

"Time's  up !    Make  it  sharp !"  ordered  Prevost. 

The  man  called  Rummy  grinned  exultingly, 
revealing  several  blanks  where  front  teeth  had 
been,  and  dived  into  Lander  before  the  latter 
could  set  himself.  At  first  Lander  was  propelled 
backward  and  with  difficulty  kept  his  feet.  Pre- 
vost watched  him  with  contempt.  Then  he 
caught  his  balance,  dug  a  heel  into  the  sward  and 
brought  Rummy's  rush  to  an  abrupt  halt.  The 
man  instantly  shifted  his  hold  and  had  him  by  the 
throat.  Almost  as  quick  Lander's  two  hands  shot 
up  inside  his  opponent's  arms  and  with  an  out- 
ward fling  easily  broke  the  hold  and  began  ham- 
mering his  man  unmercifully. 

Rummy  had  scant  knowledge  of  fisticuffs  and, 
like  most  of  his  mates,  depended  on  close  quar- 


94  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

ters  for  success,  his  technique  consisting  of  kick- 
ing, choking  and  bone-breaking. 

With  a  terrific  smack  Lander's  left  caught  him 
between  the  eyes  and  jolted  the  thick  head  back. 
Rummy  grunted  and  shook  his  head  and  gamely 
bored  in  again. 

With  a  swinging  upper-cut  Lander's  right  went 
to  his  jaw,  straightening  him  out  in  the  air. 
When  he  struck  the  turf  he  remained  very  quiet. 

"This  is  all  foolishness!"  Lander  fumed  at 
Prevost. 

Prevost  smiled  crookedly,  his  eyes  twinkling. 

"It's  the  kind  of  foolishness  that  keeps  you 
from  digging  back  to  St.  Louis  where  they  might 
make  it  hot  for  you  along  of  what  you  done  to  a' 
A.  F.  C.  man,"  he  said. 

There  had  been  five  couples  in  the  last  bout, 
and  Lander  and  his  man  had  been  the  first  to 
finish. 

"Pretty  nifty  work,  younker,"  chuckled  Long 
Simons.  "But  ye  can  pound  my  head  all  day 
v/ithout  botherin'  me  any,  less  ye  git  so  tarnal 
careless  as  to  bust  my  pipe.  Then  I  would  git 
mad." 

Prevost  leaped  among  the  fighters  and  pulled 
a  couple  apart  and  warned : 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BULLIES     95 

"That's  enough.  You  two  been  chewing  each 
other.  If  I  see  any  more  biting  I'll  spoil  the 
biter's  teeth  for  good." 

The  two  got  to  their  feet,  both  claiming  the  vic- 
tory. Prevost  motioned  them  to  retire,  saying, 
"Neither  of  you  is  any  good."  Turning  to  the 
remaining  three  couples  he  soon  had  the  winners 
standing  apart ;  these  with  Lander  made  four  sur- 
vivors from  the  mill. 

"Send  'em  along.  I'm  gittin'  sleepy  from 
waitin',"  growled  Porker. 

"Ye  big  hog!"  snorted  Long  Simons.  "Want 
to  fight  'em  when  they  can't  toddle  ?  Mister  Pre- 
vost, some  of  'em  oughter  be  matched  ag'in'  us 
two  now  afore  they  git  any  tireder." 

"Shut  up,"  snapped  Prevost.  Then  to  the  four 
men :  "Match  up.  The  winners  go  against  Porker 
and  Simons." 

"I'll  take  this  A.  F.  C.  killer,"  promptly  spoke 
up  a  man  with  long  sandy  mustaches  and  light 
blue  eyes.  The  other  two  instantly  fell  upon  each 
other. 

Lander's  challenger  stepped  backward,  saying: 

"Let's  have  plenty  of  room  to  operate  in,  young 
feller.  Seein'  as  how  ye  fight  a  new-fangled  way 
I  don't  want  to  be  crowded." 


96  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

Lander  felt  no  hostility  toward  this  chap.  The 
sandy  hair  and  blue  eyes  and  grinning  mouth  sug- 
gested good  nature.  He  held  his  hands  ready  to 
foil  a  rush,  and  as  Prevost  became  busy  over- 
seeing the  other  couple  he  took  time  to  murmur : 

*'D'ye  want  to  fight  that  Porker  or  Long 
Simons  ?" 

*T'll  fight  anything/'  coldly  answered  Lander, 
striking  a  pawing  hand  aside. 

''Wal,  I  won't."  The  confession  was  accom- 
panied by  a  chuckle.  "So  ye  needn't  be  hoggish 
in  mountin'  me,  for  ye're  goin'  to  win  mighty 
easy." 

As  he  said  this  he  deftly  secured  a  grip  on  Lan- 
der's right  wrist,  dodged  a  drive  of  the  left,  and 
closed  in.  With  both  arms  about  Lander's  waist 
and  his  head  burrowing  into  his  chest  he  pro- 
ceeded to  give  a  demonstration  of  striving  to  lift 
Lander  off  his  feet.  For  a  few  moments  Lander 
feared  being  thrown  and  struggled  viciously, 
using  his  left  against  the  head  with  short-armed 
jabs. 

"What'n 3^e  tryin'  to  do  ?"  came  the  muf- 
fled query.  "Tryin'  to  git  me  mad?  I  ain't 
hurtin'  ye  any,  be  I  ?" 

Then  Lander  realized  his  opponent  was  con- 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BULLIES     97 

tent  to  cling  to  him.  With  a  sour  grin  Lander 
accepted  the  proposition  and  displayed  great 
activity  in  swirling  about.  Once  they  went  down 
with  Lander  underneath,  but  the  other  dexter- 
ously threw  himself  on  his  side,  and  with  a  spurt 
of  strength  pulled  Lander  on  top.  Then  with  a 
groan  he  relaxed  his  hold  and  lay  still. 

Lander  got  to  his  feet  and  stared  in  dismay. 
He  had  played  the  other  fellow's  game,  yet  by 
some  accident  the  man  was  unconscious,  or  worse. 
Picking  up  a  camp  kettle  Lander  ran  to  the  river 
and  brought  water  and  doused  it  over  the  silent 
figure. 

"Young  man,  you  git  'em  quick.  No  doubt 
about  that,"  called  out  Prevost. 

Lander  threw  more  water.  With  the  celerity 
of  a  Jack-in-the-box  the  man  bobbed  to  a  sitting 
posture  and  cunningly  winked  an  eye.  In  deep 
relief  Lander  dropped  the  kettle.  Prevost  was 
calling  out : 

"New  man  wins.  Perkins  wins.  Rest  up  and 
go  against  Simons  and  Porker." 

Lander  was  still  fresh,  but  for  the  sake  of  the 
quitter's  good  name  he  simulated  fatigue  and 
took  time  to  study  Porker.  The  man  was  so 
named  because  of  his  bulk.    To  grapple  with  him 


98  KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

would  be  useless  as  the  man's  sheer  weight  would 
carry  any  ordinary  antagonist  down  to  defeat. 
Nor  did  Lander  believe  his  sturdiest  blows  could 
register  any  effect  on  the  round,  shaggy  head. 
He  eyed  the  waistline  speculatively.  That  man's 
abdomen  was  laced  with  muscles  built  up  during 
long  mountain  trips.  So  far  as  Lander  could  per- 
ceive there  was  no  vulnerable  point,  neither  jaw 
nor  wind.  But  because  of  the  man's  height  he 
decided  to  play  for  the  wind. 

"Do  you  feel  fit?"  Prevost  kindly  inquired 
after  ten  minutes  had  elapsed. 

Lander  nodded  and  stepped  quickly  forward  to 
meet  Porker.  The  latter  eyed  him  sardonically 
and  waited  for  him  to  come  within  reach,  and 
then  flung  out  his  flail  of  a  hand.  Lander  passed 
under  it  and  drove  his  right  into  the  pit  of  the 
bully's  stomach,  and  as  he  delivered  the  blow  he 
realized  he  was  adapting  the  pose  of  a  knife- 
fighter,  and  he  remembered  Papa  Clair's  parting 
advice  to  "keep  behind  the  point." 

The  blow  resounded  loudly  and  drove  a  grunt 
from  Porker.  Some  of  the  men  set  up  a  cheer 
but  Lander  felt  the  resilient  muscles  give  and 
come  back  under  his  fist  and  knew  that  mode  of 
attack  was  as  useless  as  to  beat  a  buffalo  with  the 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BULLIES     99 

bare  hands.  He  was  out  of  reach  of  the  long 
arms  and  circling  about  for  another  jab  almost 
before  Porker  knew  he  had  been  hit. 

Porker's  eyes  grew  lurid.    His  pride  was  hurt. 

"Ye  bug!"  he  roared.  "Tryin'  to  make  fun  o' 
me,  eh?    Wal,  I'll  Tarn  ye  from  childhood  up.'' 

Simons  had  his  man  tucked  comfortably  away 
under  one  arm  and  was  refraining  from  inflict- 
ing punishment.  A  wide  grin  cracked  his  face  as 
he  watched  Lander. 

"All  he  makes  me  think  of  is  a  knife-fighter," 
he  bawled  out,  "an'  he  do  make  me  think  o'  that 
most  dingly.  Hit  him  ag'in,  ye  weasel!  Give 
him  one  in  th'  snoot!" 

Lander  maneuvered  warily,  his  left  hand  out  at 
one  side,  his  right  hand  advanced  with  the  elbow 
almost  touching  the  hip.  Porker  lurched  toward 
him,  vilely  berating  him  for  running  away  after 
"takin'  a  man  by  s'prise."  Lander  evaded  the 
clawing  hands  and  sent  his  right  under  the  chin 
just  as  he  would  have  lunged  with  the  point,  with 
his  whole  body  behind  the  blow.  The  massive 
jaw  might  be  impervious  to  the  bare  fist,  just  as 
the  strongly  muscled  abdomen  could  ignore  any- 
thing short  of  a  mule's  kick,  but  as  he  happened 


loo        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

to  be  holding  his  tongue  between  his  teeth  he  bit 
it  cruelly. 

"Curse  you!"  he  roared,  spitting  blood  and 
rushing  frantically  to  grapple  his  tormentor. 

"Bully  for  ye,  younker!  Bleed  him  some 
more!  Lawd,  a  big  fool  like  that  lettin'  a  child 
lick  him !"  howled  Long  Simons,  shaking  his  man 
up  and  down  in  a  paroxysm  of  joy. 

"Wait'll  I  git  my  hooks  into  ye!"  snarled 
Porker. 

Lander  swung  both  fists,  the  double  smack 
landing  on  nose  and  eye.  The  nose  began  to 
bleed  and  the  eye  grew  puffy. 

"Haw  haw !  I'm  waitin' !"  yelled  Simons,  let- 
ting his  man  drop  to  the  ground  and  crawl  away 
while  he  pounded  his  huge  hands  together  in 
delight. 

"Good  fighting!"  applauded  Prevost. 

But  the  contest  was  too  unequal  to  continue  in 
Lander's  favor.  His  agility  and  audacity  in  tak- 
ing the  fight  to  Porker  had  dazed  the  bully  and 
won  a  temporary  advantage.  He  had  a  theory  of 
offense  that  might  have  worked  out  successfully 
could  he  have  kept  clear  of  the  madly  swinging 
arms.  The  braw^ny  throat  was  sensitive,  he  con- 
cluded.    He  proved  it  by  leaping  forward  and 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BULLIES  loi 

landing  a  stiff  jab.  No  great  damage  was  done 
yet  Porker  was  taken  with  a  fit  of  coughing,  and 
could  Lander  have  hammered  in  more  blows  on 
the  throat  it  is  possible  he  would  have  downed 
his  man. 

Porker  now  threw  all  discretion  aside  and 
rushed  at  his  nimble  adversary  with  the  ferocity 
of  a  mad  bull,  swinging  his  long  arms  and  pon- 
derous fists  in  a  thoroughly  unscientific  manner. 
It  was  useless  to  guard  against  such  an  onslaught. 
For  a  minute  or  two  Lander  ducked  and  dodged 
or  slipped  away,  with  no  opportunity  to  take  the 
offensive.  Then  he  caught  a  buffet  on  the  head 
that  knocked  him  violently  on  to  his  back,  the 
wind  driven  from  his  body.  With  a  howl  of  tri- 
umph Porker  jumped  forward  to  stamp  on  him. 

Prevost's  pistol  cracked  and  the  lead  fanned 
the  infuriated  man's  face,  and  the  leader's  voice 
was  warning:  "Through  your  thick  skull. 
Porker,  if  you  don't  pull  up." 

"He's  my  meat,"  gasped  Porker,  turning  his 
bloody  visage  toward  Prevost. 

"I'll  shoot  you  and  stick  you  in  a  tree  to  dry  if 
you  don't  come  away.  You  won  the  fight. 
That's  all." 

"But  he  blooded  me,"  protested  Porker. 


102        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"Shucks !  It  ain't  nothin'  to  what  Fm  goin'  to 
do  with  ye  once  ye  git  over  pumpin'  for  wind," 
bellowed  Long  Simons,  lounging  nearer,  his  ham- 
like hands  held  before  him,  half  closed  like  a 
gorilla's,  his  huge  shoulders  sagging  and  rising. 

With  a  husky  bleat  Porker  turned  to  clinch 
him,  but  Simons  waved  him  back,  warning: 

"Take  yer  time.  Ye'll  need  lots  of  wind  to 
buck  ag'in'  me.  Git  yer  breath.  I  don't  want  no 
one  sayin'  I  ran  foul  o'  ye  while  ye  was  tuckered 
out.  I've  heard  th'  talk  ye've  been  makin'  an'  I'm 
goin'  to  make  ye  eat  yer  words.  This  row  atween 
ye  'n'  me  is  goin'  to  be  a  real  fight,  I  reckon." 

Calmed  by  his  realization  of  the  desperate 
game  ahead  of  him,  and  disquieted  by  observing 
that  Simons  seemed  to  have  sobered  off  quite 
thoroughly,  Porker  walked  to  the  river  bank  and 
splashed  the  cold  water  over  his  head  and  shoul- 
ders. Prevost  helped  Lander  sit  up  and  the 
sandy-haired  chap  who  had  quit  brought  water 
and  bathed  his  head.  For  a  minute  Lander  could 
not  identify  himself  and  stared  foolishly  at  the 
rough  men  and  wondered  why  they  were  so 
bruised  and  battered.  They  grinned  at  him  sym- 
pathetically, and  by  degrees  the  details  of  the 
fi2:ht  came  back  to  him. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BULLIES  103 

Long  Simons  came  up,  his  hairy  face  suggest- 
ing a  grizzly  bear  learning  to  smile,  and 
endorsed : 

"Younker,  yer  shore  some  game-cock.  When 
ye  grow  up  ye' 11  be  some  fighter.    Shake !" 

Lander  gave  a  limp  hand,  then  glimpsed 
Porker  reclining  in  the  grass  and  hotly  declared : 

"I  can  kill  him  with  a  knife  inside  of  sixty 
seconds." 

"Did  you  kill  Phinny  with  a  knife?"  dryly 
asked  Prevost. 

"With  a  pistol,"  w^as  the  faint  answer ;  and  the 
lust  to  kill  deserted  him. 

"Being  such  a  master  hand  for  blood-lettin' 
you'll  do  fine  to  let  loose  in  the  Blackfoot  coun- 
try butcher-shop  when  we  git  there,"  Prevost 
ironically  observed.  "You  also  could  murder 
Porker  with  a  gun.  You  don't  seem  to  under- 
stand that  this  is  a  friendly  fight  to  see  who  shall 
wear  the  red  belt.  All  bad  blood  is  s'posed  to  be 
spilled  right  here.  If  you  go  to  the  mountains 
with  me  I  don't  want  to  hear  any  more  threats 
against  any  of  my  men.  Not  even  if  you  was  Jim 
Bridger's  brother." 

Lander  burned  hotly  under  the  rebuke.  He 
recognized  the  justice  of  it  and  apologized. 


I04        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"That  crack  over  the  head  made  me  see  red. 
I'm  not  looking  to  fight  any  one  with  a  knife.  I 
told  you  I  didn't  want  to  fight  any  of  the  men.  I 
knew  Porker  would  best  me  when  I  went  against 
him.  I  just  tried  to  make  it  a  good  one  while  it 
lasted." 

"Said  handsome  enough  to  suit  a  Quaker," 
chuckled  Prevost.  "And  you  made  it  a  good  one 
and  plenty  more ....  Hi,  Porker !  How's  the 
breathing?" 

"Good!"  growled  Porker,  clambering  to  his 
feet  and  pulling  off  his  buckskin  shirt  and  stand- 
ing forth  a  hairy  behemoth  of  a  man.  "An'  if 
that  child  'lows  his  little  dancin'  lesson  with  me 
was  a  good  fight  jest  let  him  watch  me  chaw  up 
Long  Simons  as  easy  as  a  'gator  chaws  a  puppy." 

"Ye'd  feel  a  heap  better,  Porky,  if  yer  heart 
was  ahind  them  bold  words,"  said  Long  Simons 
laughingly  as  he  peeled  to  the  buff.  "Now  I'm 
comin'  to  make  a  call  on  ye." 

"Th'  latch-string  is  out!" 

With  monstrous  impact  they  crashed  together; 
and  Lander  forgot  his  aching  head  in  watching 
the  two  Titans.  Their  barrel-like  chests  came 
together  until  it  did  not  seem  that  bone  and  sinew 
could  withstand  the  shock.     Then  they  secured 


'Jf^ml 


With  monstrous  impact  they  came  together. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BULLIES  105 

grips  and  scarcely  moving  their  feet  began  strain- 
ing and  lifting  and  pulling,  seeking  an  advan- 
tage whereby  an  arm  would  snap  or  a  muscle  tear 
loose.  They  were  primitive  forces,  eschewing 
all  man-made  rules  except  the  embargo  laid  down 
by  Prevost. 

The  boss  watched  them  anxiously,  fearful  of 
losing  the  services  of  one,  and  yet  knowing  the 
two  must  fight  it  out  now  or  be  fighting  later  on, 
and  fighting  perhaps  with  something  besides 
their  bare  strength. 

Evenly  matched  in  weight  and  seemingly  of 
equal  strength  and  experience,  there  seemed  no 
choice  between  them  at  first.  But  as  they  slowly 
revolved  about  and  Lander  sawr  the  wide,  con- 
tented grin  on  Simon's  face  and  the  deep  scowl 
on  Porker's  brow  he  wisely  suspected  the  former 
was  very  confident  and  that  the  latter  was  much 
worried.  At  that,  within  the  first  minute  Porker 
got  his  man  at  a  decided  disadvantage,  and  had 
he  not  lusted  too  prematurely  to  end  It  then  and 
there  he  might  have  scored  a  triumph.  But  he 
worked  too  hard  and  fast  and  within  another 
minute  the  odds  vanished  and  they  were  breast  to 
breast  again. 

The  struggle  both  sickened  and  fascinated  Lan- 


io6        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

der.  On  the  faces  of  the  other  men  he  beheld 
only  a  breathless  interest.  Observing  the  expres- 
sion on  Lander's  face  Prevost  smiled  grimly  and 
said: 

"The  man  who  has  the  guts  to  go  after  beaver 
where  we're  going  looks  on  this  rassling  as  just 
play.  You  think  they'll  kill  each  other.  No  such 
thing.  They'll  maul  and  pound  each  other,  and 
if  I  wasn't  here  they'd  bite  and  claw  each  other. 
Worst  that  can  come  of  it  is  a  bu'sted  leg  or  arm, 
and  one  of  them  out  of  it  for  the  season.  That's 
all  that  worries  me." 

He  was  interrupted  by  a  mighty  spank! 
Porker  had  loosed  a  hand  and  had  dealt  Long 
Simons  a  terrific  clout  on  the  head.  Simons' 
head  rocked  back,  and  Porker,  with  visions  of  a 
clear  title  to  the  red  belt,  gave  a  whoop  and 
sought  to  follow  up  his  advantage.  Then  Simons' 
apish  arms  closed  about  him. 

There  followed  a  convulsive  struggle.  Porker 
tearing  at  his  opponent's  bearded  face  to  force 
him  to  release  his  crushing  hold.  Then  a  moment 
of  weakening,  and  Porker  found  himself  over  his 
opponent's  hip.  The  next  moment  he  crashed 
headlong  to  the  ground  and  lay  there  insensible. 

Throwing   back   his   shoulders   Long   Simons 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BULLIES  107 

flapped  his  arms  and  sounded  the  cock's  crow  of 
triumph.  Prevost  examined  the  unconscious 
man,  then  curtly  announced: 

"He'll  do.  Nothing  broken.  The  red  belt  is 
yours  for  another  trip,  Simons.  That  is,  unless 
this  newcomer  wants  a  try  for  it.*' 

He  pointed  toward  the  village,  where  a  man 
on  a  mule  was  quitting  the  street  to  ride  toward 
the  camp. 

"Papa  Clair!''  cried  Lander.  "Lord!  What 
does  he  want  here?  And  riding  so  fast."  And 
a  nameless  chill  gripped  his  heart  as  he  watched 
the  old  man  flog  the  mule  to  greater  efforts. 

"There  comes  th'  steamboat!  See  her  smoke 
below  th'  bend !"  excitedly  yelled  Rummy. 


Chapter  V 

PINAUD,,    THE    HUNTER 

X  S  Papa  Clair  rode  he  kept  his  head  turned  to 
*^  watch  the  smoke  below  the  bend.  Prevost 
remarked  that  it  "looked  like  a  race  with  the 
steamboat,  with  the  mule  a  winner." 

"It's  something  about  me,"  said  Lander  un- 
easily.   "Probably  about  my  duel  with  Phinny." 

"Then  the  boat  has  something  to  do  with  it," 
said  Prevost.  "Clair  has  come  hard  and  fast  to 
beat  it  out.  The  A.  F.  C.  may  be  sending  to 
catch  you." 

"Can  they  take  me  here?"  Lander  anxiously 
inquired. 

"If  they're  strong  enough.  But  if  they've 
come  to  take  you  it  ain't  because  you  fought  a 
duel.  Duels  are  natural  as  sleep.  It's  'cause  you 
wiped  out  a'  A.  F.  C.  man  who  was  a  friend  of 
old  Hurry-Up  Parker.    Now  we'll  know." 

The  last  as  Papa  Clair's  mule  came  to  a  stag- 
io8 


PINAUD,   THE  HUNTER  109 

gering  halt  a  hundred  yards  away.  Clair  was 
afoot  with  the  quickness  of  a  cat  and  running 
toward  the  curious  group. 

"My  friend/'  he  called  out  on  beholding  Lan- 
der. "Holy  blue!  What  has  happened  to  you? 
You  have  the  bruise,  the  scratch !  Your  raiment 
is  torn." 

"Nothing,  nothing,  Papa  Clair.  What  brings 
you  here  ?"  replied  Lander. 

"Imbecile  that  I  am!  Armed  men  are  on  the 
boat  to  get  you.    We  must  ride  at  once." 

"How  many  ?  I  reckon  we  can  stand  them  off," 
spoke  up  Prevost. 

"No,  no.  There  must  be  no  trouble  between 
the  A.  F.  C.  and  the  Rocky  Mountain  Fur  Com- 
pany— at  least,  not  in  Missouri.  We  must  go. 
You  must  know  nothing  about  us.  And  we  must 
ride  quick!" 

"Then  you  must  have  a  fresh  mule,  Etienne 
Clair,"  said  Prevost. 

"A  thousand  thanks  for  the  same,  M'sieu 
Prevost." 

"Simons,  rush  up  two  mules,"  was  the  sharp 
order. 

The  champion  did  as  bid  but  remonstrated: 

"No  need  o'  runnin'.     If  thar's  any  trouble 


no        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

along  o'  that  boat  I  reckon  we  can  smooth  it 
down.'* 

"At  Lexington,  but  not  here  at  St.  Charles. 
Put  him  on  the  trail  for  Lexington,  Papa.  He 
can  follow  the  river  close  enough  to  see  when  the 
boat  has  passed.  He  can  hold  back  when  he 
reaches  Lexington  until  sure  the  steamer  has  gone 
and  the  men  with  it.  If  the  men  stay  with  us  to 
trap  him  I'll  send  some  one  down  the  trail  to  warn 
him.  Now  be  off.  She'll  be  poking  her  head 
round  the  bend  in  another  minute." 

With  his  mind  in  a  whirl  Lander  took  his  rifle, 
mounted  the  mule  and  followed  Papa  Clair  up  the 
river,  keeping  under  cover  of  a  fringe  of  cotton- 
woods  and  willows.  The  two  men  covered  some 
five  or  six  miles,  exchanging  scarcely  a  word. 
Then  Clair  pulled  up  on  the  edge  of  a  wooded 
terrace  that  gave  a  view  of  the  river  and  quietly 
remarked : 

"Now  to  wait  for  the  steamer  to  go  by. 
Fumez  la  pipe.  The  men  on  the  boat  must  stick 
to  the  boat  as  they  haven't  any  horses  or  mules 
and  Prevost  won't  lend  them  any." 

"What  does  it  all  mean?"  demanded  Lander. 

"It  was  after  I  left  you,  my  friend.  I  did  not 
feel  to  sleep,"  Papa  Clair  began,  speaking  be- 


PINAUD,   THE  HUNTER  iii 

tween  puffs  as  his  pipe  balked  a  bit.  "I  walked 
down  to  the  levee,  thinking  that  perhaps  some  of 
your  visitors  would  be  waiting  to  get  their  satisfy 
from  me.  I  heard  a  man  say  the  Golden  Queen 
would  start  at  three  o'clock.  I  found  the  boat  and 
watched  the  freight  go  aboard.  Steam  was  up. 
They  would  be  leaving  soon.  Then  as  I  stood 
behind  a  pile  of  barrels  armed  men  passed 
through  the  light  of  the  basket-torch.  They  were 
not  trappers  nor  traders.  I  recognized  Dillings 
among  them.    I  knew  it  meant  mischief. 

*T  stole  close  to  the  guards  and  heard  talk. 
They  spoke  of  you.  One  said  they  would  be  sure 
to  pick  you  up  at  St.  Charles,  that  they  must  get 
you  before  you  got  out  of  the  state.  That  was 
enough  for  me.  I  went  to  the  Parker  house  on 
Pine  Street  and  woke  a  negro  in  back  and  gave 
him  money  and  your  letter ;  and  I  told  him  to  give 
it  to  wi'm'selle  early  in  the  morning  and  to  let  no 
one  see  him.  Then  I  placed  my  knife  at  his 
throat  and  promised  to  come  back  and  cut  off  his 
head  if  he  failed  to  do  as  I  told  him.  He  said  he 
would  sit  up  all  night  to  be  sure  to  give  it  to  her 
early.  Then  to  my  room,  then  a  mule,  and  here 
are. 
'You've  come  far  enough  out  of  your  way, 


112        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

Papa.  After  the  boat  passes  you  must  start 
back,"  said  Lander  with  a  sigh  in  his  voice. 

"Name  of  heaven!  Go  back  and  leave  you  to  be 
captured  perhaps  at  Lexington?  You  slander 
mer 

"Bridger's  men  won't  let  them  take  me." 

"They  will  have  a  writing  from  the  court.  If 
Bridger  stops  them,  then  the  A.  F.  C.  will  make 
it  warm  for  his  company,  perhaps  try  to  take 
away  his  license.  No,  no!  We  must  not  let 
M'sieu  Bridger  have  trouble  over  it." 

"I'd  rather  have  you  with  me  than  a  thousand 
mountain  men,  but  it's  my  trouble." 

"I  am  here,  Etienne  Clair.  I  went  to  my  room 
and  brought  this."  He  held  up  a  long  heavy 
package  securely  wrapped  in  buckskin.  "I  have 
come  to  stay.  Not  only  to  Lexington,  eight  days 
away,  but  to  the  mountains.  By  the  grace  of 
God  I  will  see  what  truth  there  is  in  the  cook- 
ing-springs and  caves  of  war-paint.     See  these!" 

He  unwrapped  the  package  and  disclosed  three 
long  scabbards,  one  of  his  dearly  beloved  knives 
in  each.  With  the  one  in  his  boot  he  had  four. 
He  proceeded  to  fasten  the  three  blades  to  his 
belt,  saying  as  he  did  so : 

"They  are  all  I  had  to  bring.     They  would 


PINAUD,   THE   HUNTER  113 

have  wept  Had  I  left  them  behind.  Had  I  taken 
one  the  other  three  would  have  been  jealous. 
Ah,  they  are  very  sensitive,  these  little  ones  of 
mine.  See  how  bright  the  blade  shines  because 
it  goes  to  the  fountain !" 

He  pulled  a  knife  and  held  it  up  to  mirror  the 
sun. 

Immensely  heartened  by  his  friend's  presence 
Lander  did  not  have  the  courage  to  insist  on  the 
old  man's  returning.  He  had  been  homesick 
without  knowing  what  was  the  matter  with  him. 
The  girl  tugged  at  his  heart  and  kept  his 
thoughts  turned  to  St.  Louis.  The  mountain  men 
were  all  strangers  and  exceedingly  rough  in  their 
ways.  He  did  not  fear  physical  danger,  but  the 
fighting  and  carousing  sickened  him. 

"I  ought  not  to  admit  it,"  he  mused.  "Yet  I 
was  feeling  very  lonesome  until  you  came." 

With  a  rare  smile  lighting  his  wrinkled  face 
Papa  Clair  replied : 

"It  is  very  good  of  m'sieu  to  allow.  Now  to 
business.  We  brought  no  supplies.  Take  your 
rifle  and  scout  the  bottoms.  I  will  see  if  can  find 
M'sieu  Rabbit  or  Madame  Turkey." 

They  hitched  their  mules  and  separated,  Papa 
Clair  taking  only  his  knives. 


114        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

On  rejoining  each  other  thirty  minutes  later 
Lander  held  up  his  empty  hands  and  looked  his 
disgust.  Papa  Clair  held  up  a  turkey  he  had 
killed  with  his  knife. 

Having  eaten  and  saved  what  was  left  of  the 
turkey  they  resumed  their  flight.  Their  back 
trail  concerned  them  none  as  they  knew  the  men 
would  not  attempt  to  follow  them  afoot.  They 
progressed  leisurely,  thinking  to  hold  back  until 
the  boat  passed  them.  As  it  was  impracticable 
to  follow  the  river  closely,  owing  to  the  high 
water,  they  were  continually  riding  across  the 
bends,  making  their  mileage  much  less  than  that 
of  the  boat.  At  times  they  drew  back  a  consider- 
able distance  from  the  river  and  could  not  know 
whether  or  not  the  boat  had  passed  in  the  mean- 
time. 

For  two  days  they  advanced  to  glimpse  the 
broad  and  muddy  stream  and  as  often  retreated, 
or  were  driven  back  by  natural  obstacles,  without 
sighting  the  Golden  Queen.  Lander  was  con- 
vinced the  boat  was  ahead  of  them.  Papa  Clair, 
observing  the  unusual  number  of  snags  and  drift 
in  the  river,  and  knowing  the  boat  would  not  at- 
tempt to  run  after  dark,  shook  his  head. 

On  the  third  day  they  started  late  and  crossed 


PINAUD,  THE  HUNTER  115 

a  deep  bend.  They  approached  the  river  along 
some  low  bluffs  and  were  able  to  draw  close  to  the 
river.  They  were  out  of  food  and  had  eaten 
nothing  since  the  noon  before. 

As  they  stood  and  stared  out  on  the  mighty 
desolation  Lander  forgot  his  hunger.  It  was  his 
first  trip  up  the  Missouri.  Here  was  a  primitive 
monster  eternally  gnawing  away  at  the  banks, 
swallowing  acres  at  a  mouthful,  writhing  back 
and  forth  and  forever  shifting  its  serpentine 
course.  The  implacable  waters  were  dotted 
thickly  with  drifting  trees,  fresh  victims  to  its 
insatiate  hunger,  and  ancient  wreckage  discarded 
in  past  seasons  and  now  retrieved  briefly  to  serve 
as  a  plaything. 

Inshore  were  many  deadly  snags  and  sawyers. 
One  of  the  latter,  almost  below  them,  deceived 
Lander  at  first  into  beHeving  it  was  some  aquatic 
monster.  It  raised  its  ragged  spear  of  a  trunk 
under  the  impulse  of  the  current,  then  furtively 
sank  from  sight.  A  count  of  ten  and  it  cau- 
tiously appeared,  then  vanished.  Papa  Clair 
smiled  and  briefly  named  it. 

"Lord !  But  it  does  seem  as  if  it  knew  what  it's 
about,"  said  Lander. 

"They    are    worse    than    snags,"    said    Papa. 


ii6        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"Take  one  that  saws  up  and  down  more  slowly 
and  a  steamer  at  the  bend  will  see  clear  water  and 
have  time  to  get  above  it  before  it  comes  up. 
Then,  peste!    It  rips  out  the  bottom." 

Regardless  of  snags  and  sawyers  the  steam- 
boat faced  two  big  problems — food  and  huge 
amounts  of  fuel.  It  was  the  need  of  the  latter 
that  nearly  led  the  two  fugitives  into  the  hands 
of  the  enemy. 

From  the  bluff  it  was  impossible  to  see  the  edge 
of  the  river  at  their  feet.  Thinking  to  find  a  tur- 
key or  deer  they  left  their  mules  and  slid  down 
the  clay  banks  and  came  to  a  thick  grove  of  cot- 
tonwoods.  They  were  advancing  through  this, 
with  never  a  thought  of  danger,  when  a  voice  pro- 
fanely bawling  out  brought  them  to  a  halt. 

Dropping  to  the  w^et  ground  they  crept  forward 
to  the  edge  of  the  growth  and  were  astounded  to 
behold  the  Golden  Queen  moored  to  a  wood-yard. 
Her  boilers  were  dead  and  no  smoke  was  issuing 
from  her  stacks.  The  mate  was  loudly  harangu- 
ing and  abusing  the  men  who,  busy  as  ants,  were 
bringing  w^ood  aboard.  In  tow  was  Prevost's 
keelboat  with  two  men  aboard.  Neither  Prevost 
nor  any  of  the  mountain  men  were  with  the  boat 
so  far  as  the  two  comrades  could  discover.    For- 


PINAUD,   THE  HUNTER  117 

ward  on  the  steamer  was  a  group  of  heavily 
armed  men  who  seemed  to  have  no  work  to  do. 
Papa  Clair  glared  at  them  and  played  with  a 
knife. 

"There  is  Dillings,"  whispered  Lander.  "See 
anything  of  Prevost  on  board  ?" 

Papa  shook  his  head,  murmuring : 

"Sent  two  of  his  boatmen  with  the  keelboat. 
He  and  the  men  went  with  the  mules  by  land. 
Hah,  behold!  It  is  Tilton.  Bah!  The  cowards  I 
He  did  not  dare  come  to  your  room  that  night. 
They  won't  risk  their  hides  where  they  think  we 
have  a  chance  to  fight  back." 

Now  the  mate  called  a  halt  and  gave  rapid 
orders.  Deserting  the  wood-yard  the  men 
swarmed  along  the  shore  and  began  salvaging 
huge  drift  logs. 

"Wood's  just  been  cut.  It's  too  green,"  whis- 
pered Papa  Clair.  "The  logs  burn  best.  They've 
been  laying  up  here  for  hours.  If  they  had  had  a 
fire  going  the  smoke  would  have  warned  us.  As 
it  is  we  are  lucky  not  to  fall  into  their  hands. 
Wood-yards  are  easy  to  get  at  here ;  but  up-coun- 
try the  Indians  hide  near  them  and  rush  the  men 
sent  ashore.  More  than  one  scalp  has  been  taken 
that  way." 


ii8        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

Uan'der  pressed  Clair's  arm,  but  the  old  man 
had  seen  and  already  was  working  back  into  the 
grove.  The  cause  o£  his  alarm  was  a  tall,  rangy 
figure  in  fringed  buckskin  and  carrying  a  long 
rifle. 

"Hunter  for  the  boat,''  murmured  Clair.  "The 
crew  are  easy  to  fool,  but  if  he  should  come  back 
in  here  he  would  see  our  trail.  We  must  go  back 
to  the  mules  at  once." 

They  lost  no  time  in  ascending  the  bluffs,  the 
man  in  buckskin  looming  in  their  inner  vision  as 
a  possible  nemesis. 

"He'll  go  ashore  about  midnight,"  continued 
Papa  Clair  as  they  found  their  mules  and  moved 
back  a  bit.  "The  steamer  will  start  with  the  first 
light  and  pick  up  what  he  kills  and  hangs  in  trees 
along  the  shore.  Steam  has  made  women  of  the 
river  travelers.  But  behold,  I  remember  when 
corn,  coffee,  pork  and  beans  were  good  enough 
for  any  man  three  times  a  day.  That  was  before 
steam  came  to  the  Missouri.  And  yes,  back  of 
those  days  when  bear  was  easier  to  get  than  pork 
we  used  bear  meat.  It  wasn't  so  many  years  ago 
that  every  one  used  bear  oil  for  lard.  Many  the 
long  dugout  I've  seen  come  down  the  river  with 
the  center  bin  filled  with  oil  and  covered  with  a 


PINAUD,   THE   HUNTER  119 

skin.  Yes,  and  honey,  too.  Holy  blue!  But  so 
many  bee  trees  in  the  Missouri  bottoms  in  those 
days.  Fill  the  cargo-box  full  and  off  to  town. 
M'sieu  Boone's  boys  brought  in  much  honey.  No 
barrels,  no  casks  then.  And  bear  oil  would  go 
through  a  skin  bag  like  water  through  a  broken 
kettle.  Ah,  it  makes  me  remember  we  are  hun- 
gry, my  friend.  The  tall  hunter  gives  me  a 
thought." 

He  led  his  mule  farther  back  from  the  river, 
Lander  following,  impatient  to  learn  if  his 
thought  tended  to  serve  the  food  problem.  Clair 
halted  and  gravely  said : 

"It  is  robbery  I  would  lead  you  into.  But  what 
would  you  have  when  hungry  and  the  belt  set  in 
an  extra  notch  ?  One  must  eat  when  one  starves 
even  if  one  pays  the  shot  to  the  devil  for  dining. 
May  the  tall  hunter  have  much  luck!"  And  he 
crossed  himself  devoutly. 

Lander  understood  and  with  boyisK  zest  was 
eager  to  play  Papa  Clair's  game  of  larceny. 
They  retired  a  quarter  of  a  mile  and  were  lucky 
enough  to  stumble  upon  a  turkey  which  they 
dressed  and  broiled  over  dry  twigs. 

By  the  time  they  had  eaten,  long  pennons  of 
black  smoke  streamed  high  above  the  top  of  the 


120        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

wooded  bluffs  and  they  knew  the  boat  was  once 
more  fighting  its  way  against  the  current.  They 
stalked  it  until  it  tied  up  for  the  night,  then 
pressed  on  ahead  a  mile  and  secured  their  mules 
well  back  from  the  shore. 

With  the  first  streak  of  light  they  were  scout- 
ing along  the  grove  and  were  soon  rewarded  by 
the  crack  of  a  rifle. 

"He's  bagged  something!"  exulted  Lander. 

"May  God  be  good  to  him  in  his  hunting!" 
piously  muttered  Papa  Clair.  "The  devil  sent 
this  high  water  to  drown  out  the  game.  Turkey 
does  not  fill  me.    I  want  red  meat." 

Maneuvering  down  to  the  bank  Clair  struck  the 
hunter's  trail  and  followed  it  until  they  came  to  a 
small  deer  hung  up  in  a  tree  where  it  could  be 
plainly  discovered  from  the  boat.  "K  volume  of 
smoke  down-stream  tarnishing  the  glory  of  the 
morning  sun  marked  the  coming  of  the  Golden 
Queen.  The  two  adventurers  now  heard  the 
hunter's  rifle  speak  again  some  distance  ahead. 

The  deer  was  removed  from  the  tree,  carried 
back  into  the  woods  and  butchered.  Loaded  with 
the  meat  they  scrambled  up  the  slope  and  located 
their  mules.  They  struck  due  north  for  several 
miles  before  daring  to  halt  and  make  camp. 


PINAUD,   THE   HUNTER  121 

Hastily  broiling  some  steaks  they  satisfied 
their  enormous  appetites  and  rode  west,  swinging 
down  toward  the  river  as  the  sun  touched  the 
horizon.  They  were  at  the  neck  of  a  bend,  and 
cutting  across  this  they  beheld  the  Golden  Queen 
working  inshore  through  the  many  snags. 

The  voices  of  the  crew  and  passengers  could  be 
plainly  heard.  Papa  Clair  pointed  out  a  man  on 
the  upper  deck  and  informed: 

"It  is  his  work  to  watch  for  the  game  the 
hunter  hangs  up  on  the  bank.  The  hunter  has 
had  poor  luck,  making  his  kills  far  apart.  When 
game  is  plenty  he  will  be  back  on  board  by  ten 
o'clock  in  the  morning  with  the  rest  of  the  day 
for  sleep  and  playing  the  gentleman.  He  can  not 
be  asked  to  do  any  work  of  any  kind.  Once  I 
was  hunter  for  a  keelboat.  But  that  was  far 
different." 

Now  the  lookout  cupped  his  mouth  and  bawled 
out,  "Ducks  on  th'  starboard  bow !" 

Clair  chuckled  softly  and  whispered : 

"The  tall  hunter  will  be  very  angry  when  he 
goes  aboard  and  does  not  find  the  deer.  The 
lookout  man  will  be  blamed  and  that  will  make 
him  angry.  Now  we  can  go  back.  There  is  a  big 
bend  for  us  to  cut  across  to-morrow." 


122        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

That  night  they  ate  as  only  a  borderer  can  eat 
after  being  half-starved  for  days.  Lander  was 
amazed  at  the  portions  of  meat  he  devoured.  At 
dawn  they  were  on  their  way,  keeping  wide  of  the 
river  until  Papa  Clair  decided  they  were  near  the 
bend,  when  they  bore  south  again.  Papa  Clair 
should  have  sensed  the  possibility  of  others  choos- 
ing to  walk  across  the  bend,  even  as  he  and 
Lander  were  doing.  Apparently  he  did  not  give 
the  matter  a  thought,  and  Lander  was  too  green 
to  the  country  to  think  of  it. 

The  two  fared  pleasantly,  having  eaten  heart- 
ily, wnth  Papa  in  a  boy's  mood  and  regaling  his 
companion  with  many  stories  of  the  upper  coun- 
try. It  was  seldom  he  mentioned  those  periods 
of  his  life  spent  on  the  lower  Mississippi,  in  and 
around  New  Orleans. 

"Call  this  a  bend,"  he  scoffed.  "Wait  till  you 
go  round  the  Great  Bend,  thirty  miles  by  boat  and 
only  a  mile  and  a  half  across  by  land.  Before 
the  steamboat  it  was  hard  for  river  men.  Last 
year  when  Jedediah  Smith  took  some  Rocky 
Mountain  Fur  men  with  loaded  wagons  to  the 
Rockies  by  way  of  the  Platte  and  Sweetwater  he 
showed  what  one  could  do  by  land  travel. 
M'sieu  Bridger  says  he  could  have  taken  the 


PINAUD,   THE  HUNTER  123 

wagons  over  the  mountains  by  South  Pass  with 
no  trouble." 

"Wish  rd  gone  with  that  outfit.  I'd  know 
something  about  the  mountains  by  this  time," 
lamented  Lander. 

'Tf  s  not  too  late  to  learn  if  the  A.  F.  C.  don't 
get  you  before  you  get  started,"  Papa  comforted. 
"All  their  posts  can  be  reached  by  water  and  they 
have  no  love  for  land  travel.  When  M'sieu  Ash- 
ley plunged  into  the  mountains  and  set  his  men 
to  trapping  instead  of  using  the  Indians  he  made 
the  A.  F.  C.  open  its  eyes  and  grow  very  angry. 
The  A.  F.  C.  has  more  influence  among  the 
Indians  than  the  government's  Indian  Depart- 
ment. There's  no  law  beyond  Fort  Leavenworth 
except  what  you  make  and  enforce  yourself.  To 
build  posts  in  opposition  is  sorry  business  for  the 
independent  trader.  He  is  undersold  and  dis- 
couraged and  tricked  in  a  hundred  ways.  The 
Indians  do  not  believe  the  new  man  can  last  for 
more  than  a  season  and  so  they  stick  to  the  A. 
F.  C" 

"Stick  so  long  as  the  liquor  holds  out,"  laughed 
Lander.  "Fort  Union  was  always  sending  word 
by  express  that  they  must  have  liquor." 

"Ah,  but  those  A.  F.  C.    Such  men!    When  it 


124         KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

came  hard  to  smuggle  liquor  they  built  a  big  dis- 
tillery inside  the  fort.  They  got  corn  from  the 
Mandans  and  the  Minnetarees  and  turned  out  all 
they  needed.  There  was  Pinaud  who  killed  Blair 
at  Cabanne's  Post.  Both  were  hunters  for  the 
post.  Behold,  it  was  cold-blooded  murder.  Pin- 
aud is  taken  to  St.  Louis  and  put  on  trial  for  his 
life.  Every  one  on  the  river  knew  he  would  be 
hung.  Every  one  said :  *Eh  ?  A  rascal.  May  the 
devil  take  him!*  And  he  was  acquitted!  No 
witnesses  came  down  the  river  to  tell  the  truth 
against  him.  The  A.  F.  C.  was  willing  he  should 
be  hung,  but  to  place  a  noose  around  his  neck 
would  show  the  company  was  violating  the  law 
by  selling  liquor  at  its  posts.  So  Pinaud,  the  mur- 
derer, is  free  and  back  up  on  the  river  some- 
where, believing  he  can  kill  any  one  and  not  be 
punished.  I  have  often  wished  I  could  have  him 
within  good  throwing  distance." 

A  rifle  barked  behind  them  and  Lander's  mule 
bolted.  The  shot  hardly  sounded  before  Papa 
Clair  was  off  his  mule  and  crouching  behind  some 
wild  rose  bushes. 

"Get  down !  Get  down !  Do  you  want  to  see 
the  mountains,  my  friend?"  he  softly  called  out. 

Lander  fell  off  his  mule  and  crawled  behind 


PINAUD,   THE   HUNTER  125 

a  walnut  tree,  his  animal  trotting  away  to  find 
its  mate  in  Clair's  hiding-place.  And  this  was  the 
danger  Clair  should  have  anticipated  when  he 
started  to  travel  across  the  bend. 

Clair  beckoned  for  Lander  to  crawl  to  him. 
As  Lander  obeyed  he  instructed : 

"Take  the  mules  and  lead  them  back  from  the 
river.  Name  of  a  pig!  Why  did  I  forget  there 
were  others  who  were  hungry  to  walk  on  the 
land!" 

"If  there  is  to  be  any  fighting — "  Lander 
began. 

''Non!  non!  I  must  see  how  many  of  the  mur- 
derers are  behind  us.  It  may  be  it  is  some 
straggler." 

Securing  the  mules  Lander  bent  half  double 
and  slowly  worked  them  back  from  the  bend. 
Papa  pulled  his  ragged  hat  firmly  over  his  white 
hair  and  began  scouting  his  back  trail.  Moving 
with  exquisite  cunning  he  reached  the  spot  where 
he  believed  the  assassin  must  have  stood  in  firing 
the  shot.  He  circled  about  this  point,  moving 
with  the  ease  of  a  shadow.  He  heard  nothing  to 
arouse  his  suspicions,  but  when  half-way  round 
the  circle  he  came  upon  signs  which  told  him  one 
man  had  recently  passed  there.     Now  a  faint 


126        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

^'hidloo''  came  down  the  wind,  indicating  the  shot 
had  been  heard. 

Taking  the  unknown's  trail  Clair  followed  it. 
He  believed  that  some  of  those  who  had  gone 
ahead  would  be  returning  soon  to  investigate  the 
shot. 

He  trailed  the  would-be  slayer  across  the  circle 
and  into  his  own  trail.  To  his  trained  eye  it  was 
obvious  the  man  ahead  was  no  woodsman,  for  his 
signs  were  many  and  exhibited  much  awkward- 
ness. 

Coming  to  some  bull-berry  bushes  which  stood 
twelve  feet  high  and  were  thick  with  thorns 
Papa  noted  a  thread  caught  on  a  thorn.  He 
examined  it  carefully  and  pronounced  it  to  be 
homespun.  The  man  had  crowded  too  close  to 
the  ticklish  cover.  Why  ?  Clair  crept  around  the 
bushes  and  to  his  horror  caught  a  glimpse  of 
Lander  making  up  the  bush-grown  slope.  He 
vanished  almost  as  soon  as  seen,  but  there  were 
other  open  spots  ahead  of  him. 

With  a  click  of  the  teeth  that  denoted  dismay 
Papa  Clair  shifted  his  gaze  to  the  foreground, 
desperately  seeking  the  snake  before  he  could 
strike.  He  swept  his  eyes  in  a  semicircle  and 
repeated  before  he  made  out  the  homespun-clad 


PINAUD,  THE  HUNTER  127 

figure  blending  in  with  the  bare,  dull  branches  of 
the  bush  growth.  The  man  was  kneeling  and  his 
long  rifle  was  bearing  on  the  slope.  As  Papa 
Clair  raised  his  rifle  Lander  came  into  view. 
The  assassin  steadied  his  gun,  but  Clair's  was  the 
only  shot  fired.  Lander  turned  and  stared  down 
into  the  lowlands. 

Clair  raced  to  the  silent  figure,  gave  it  one 
glance,  and  then  tore  up  the  rise  to  Lander. 

"Hat  of  the  devil!"  panted  the  old  man,  seiz- 
ing the  mules  and  fairly  dragging  the  surprised 
young  man  into  the  bushes. 

"Are  they  coming?'*  gasped  Lander. 

"If  not  it  is  not  because  m'sieu  has  not  invited 
them,"  groaned  Papa.  "You  ride  in  the  sun- 
light, in  open  places,  where  all  the  world  can  see 
you.  At  night  you  should  carry  a  flaming  torch 
in  each  hand  and  sing.  Then  you  would  throw 
the  assassins  off  the  trail.  Messieurs,  the  mur- 
derers, must  be  puzzled  to  know  w^here  you  are." 

"I  must  be  very  green,"  Lander  sheepishly  con- 
fessed. "I  didn't  think  I  could  be  seen.  Who 
fired  the  shot?" 

"I,  Etienne  Clair.     Dillings  was  stalking  you 
as  he  would  a  blind  bull." 
'  "Of  course  you — "  faltered  Lander. 


128         KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"I  always  do.  Had  I  had  time  I  should  have 
used  the  knife.  Come — the  others  will  be  hurry- 
ing here  like  turkey-buzzards  after  meat." 

They  turned  north  almost  at  right  angles  with 
the  river  and  had  barely  lost  themselves  in  a 
region  of  scrub  when  a  hoarse  howl  at  the  neck 
of  the  bend  advertised  the  discovery  of  Dillings' 
body.  The  two  mules  left  an  open  trail,  and  Papa 
Clair  dismounted  and  scouted  ahead.  Soon  he 
whistled  and  Lander  joined  him  on  a  stretch  of 
stony  ground  that  ran  east  and  west.  Clair 
mounted  and  took  time  to  breathe  deeply. 

"They  are  not  woodsmen,  my  friend.  They 
are  but  tavern  loungers.  Yet  behold,  a  man  with- 
out eyes  could  follow  our  trail.  So  it  is  very  good 
we  reached  this  rough  strip.  We  will  follow  it 
west  and  strike  into  the  bull-berry  bushes." 

"Thanks  to  you  we  got  out  of  that  mess 
nicely,"  shivered  Lander. 

"Not  yet  out  of  it.  They  know  we  are  here. 
They  heard  Dillings  shoot.  They  know  he 
wouldn't  fire  unless  he  saw  something  to  shoot  at. 
They  heard  my  shot.  They  find  him  dead.  We 
have  lost  a  move.  Now  we  will  hold  back  and  be 
sure  the  boat  has  gone  on  ahead  even  if  we  arrive 
at  Lexington  after  the  outfit  has  started." 


PINAUD,   THE  HUNTER  129 

"Xnd  be  hunted  by  Tilton's  gang  all  the  way  to 
Lexington/'  reminded  Lander.  ''They'll  quit  the 
boat  and  chase  us  afoot." 

"Bah !  they  are  nothing.    If  only " 

_  "Go  on,"  urged  Lander. 

"If  only  they  do  not  send  the  tall  hunter  after 
us,"  mused  Clair.  "He  is  used  to  following  trails 
and  reading  signs.  When  he  hears  of  Dillings' 
death  he  will  know  we  took  the  deer.  He  will  not 
get  his  satisfy  till  he  bags  us.    But  God  wills." 

They  traveled  hard  as  long  as  a  shred  of  light 
remained,  purposing  to  add  as  much  distance  as 
possible  after  darkness  should  blot  out  their  trail 
from  the  hunter's  knowing  eyes.  Then  they 
would  keep  to  cover  until  satisfied  the  Golden 
Queen  was  far  up  the  river.  They  knew  the  boat 
w^ould  not  wait  for  any  scheme  of  vengeance  to 
be  worked  out.  Lander  surmised  his  old  friend 
was  apprehensive.  He  was  sure  of  it  when  the 
old  man  insisted  they  build  no  fire  but  eat  what 
meat  they  already  had  cooked. 

"Tall  and  thin.  Thin  as  a  buffalo  cow  in  early 
spring,"  he  mumbled  as  he  tore  at  his  food. 
Then  to  Lander:  "You  saw  the  hunter.  How 
did  he  walk?" 

"I  didn't  notice,  beyond  his  trick  of  swinging 


130        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

his  right  leg  sideways  a  bit.  Maybe  he  didn't,  but 
that's  the  way  it  looked." 

**Good !  You  will  make  a  mountain  man  yet — 
if  you  live.  It  all  came  to  me  a  few  minutes  ago. 
I  saw  it  and  did  not  think  about  it  till  now.  Now 
something  inside  of  my  head  gave  me  a  jerk  and 
said  for  me  to  remember  how  he  swung  his  leg. 
There  could  be  no  other." 

"Meaning  the  hunter?"  puzzled  Lander. 

"Pinaud,  the  hunter.  The  man  who  murdered 
Blair,  and  who  would  have  been  hung  if  the 
A.  F.  C.  had  not  been  trading  whisky  to  the 
Indians.  He's  as  deadly  as  a  rattlesnake,  a  killer 
by  nature.  He  is  very  worthy  of  one's  best  atten- 
tion. It  is  to  be  regretted  we  must  take  the 
mules  along." 

Lander  found  his  appetite  diminishing.  Pin- 
aud,  the  hunter,  was  a  vastly  different  proposi- 
tion from  Tilton  and  his  blundering  roughs. 
Lander  suggested  they  stand  watch  but  Papa 
shook  his  head,  reminding  that  even  a  Pinaud 
could  not  follow  a  trail  through  the  darkness. 

"Then  he  must  have  sleep.  In  the  morning  he 
will  seek  us.  The  boat  can  not  wait  for  him  to 
hunt  us  and  the  boat  must  have  fresh  meat.  He 
will  try  to  add  us  to  his  bag  as  he  goes  along." 


PINAUD,  THE  HUNTER  131 

They  were  not  disturbed  that  night,  and  they 
entered  upon  the  sixth  day  of  their  journey  with 
considerable  confidence.  The  mules  were  a 
nuisance,  but  it  was  out  of  the  question  to  con- 
sider leaving  them  behind  when  Bridger  depended 
upon  them  for  the  overland  trip.  They  avoided 
the  sky-line  when  in  the  open  and  toward  midday 
saw  smoke  above  the  trees.  Something  had 
delayed  the  boat,  and  instead  of  being  behind  they 
were  ahead  of  it. 

"We  will  wait  for  it  to  pass,"  mumbled  Papa. 
*T  will  find  some  dry  stuff  which  will  not  smoke 
and  we  will  risk  a  fire.  You  shall  broil  some 
meat  while  I  look  about." 

Lander  stuck  some  green  willow  wands  into 
the  ground  so  that  the  meat-laden  tips  inclined 
over  the  small,  smokeless  blaze,  and  then  settled 
himself  to  wait  for  Papa  Clair's  return.  He 
sensed  no  danger  as  he  sat  there,  hands  resting  on 
his  knees.  Pinaud,  the  hunter,  was  the  last  per- 
son in  his  thoughts  for  the  excellent  reason  that 
Miss  Susette  was  there,  a  vision  that  excluded  all 
else.  Then  Pinaud,  the  hunter,  suddenly  stood 
before  him,  a  savage  grin  on  his  thin,  dark  face 
as  he  pointed  his  rifle  and  kicked  Lander's  gun  to 
one  side. 


132         KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

Lander  had  no  time  to  betray  the  surprise  he 
felt.  He  curiously  wondered  why  the  man  did 
not  shoot. 

"Where  is  your  mate?"  softly  asked  Pinaud, 
rolling  his  eyes  to  search  the  surrounding  cover. 

Then  Lander  surmised  his  life  would  be  spared 
so  long  as  the  shot  would  serve  to  bring  Papa 
Clair  to  the  scene.  This  hope  was  shattered  as 
Pinaud's  prowling  eyes  took  in  the  rifle  he  had 
kicked  aside.  Provided  with  an  extra  gun,  the 
very  thing  he  had  refrained  from  doing — dis- 
charging his  rifle — became  the  strategic  thing  to 
do.  He  could  kill  Lander,  then  wait  behind  a 
bush  for  Clair  to  come  up  and  catch  the  bullet 
from  the  second  weapon.  As  Clair  might  return 
at  any  moment  he  must  either  shoot  or  retreat  at 
once. 

"Where  is  your  mate  ?"  he  repeated. 

"Looking  for  you." 

"You  mean  he  knows  who  I  am  ?" 

"Pinaud,  the  hunter.  We  saw  you  on  tKe  boat 
several  days  ago.  We've  seen  you  every  day 
since." 

Pinaud  frowned  and  darted  his  sharp  gaze 
from  side  to  side. 


PINAUD,   THE   HUNTER  133 

"You  found  a  deer.  One  I  shot  for  the  boat. 
You  took  it,"  he  ominously  accused. 

Lander  nodded  toward  the  broiling  venison. 

"Who  is  the  other  man  ?"  hissed  Pinaud. 

"Papa  Clair,  of  New  Orleans  and  St.  Louis." 

Had  a  rattlesnake  sounded  his  warning  be- 
tween the  hunter's  moccasins  the  effect  could  not 
have  been  more  pronounced.  He  leaped  to  one 
side  and  snatched  his  gaze  from  Lander  long 
enough  to  reconnoiter  in  every  direction,  while  he 
tilted  his  head  and  with  his  supernormal  hearing 
sought  to  catch  some  sound  of  Clair  returning. 

"Curse  him,"  he  softly  whispered.  "Wanted  me 
hung  in  St.  Louis  for  killing  a  dog.  But  they 
didn't  dare  hang  Pinaud,  the  hunter." 

Lander  held  his  lazy  position,  his  hands  clasp- 
ing his  knees,  his  right  hand  over  the  haft  of  the 
knife  inside  the  bootleg,  his  attention  concen- 
trated on  the  man  who  had  come  to  kill  him. 

"How  far  was  he  going?"  snarled  Pinaud, 
again  betraying  uneasiness. 

"To  the  boat." 

"You  lie !    I'm  going  to  shoot  you." 

"Go  ahead.  Clair  will  get  you  before  you  can 
reload." 

"I'll  have  your  gun  for  him." 


134        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"You'll  need  to  load  it  first." 

Pinaud  stirred  the  long  piece  with  his  foot  but 
did  not  dare  to  risk  an}^  examination.  Suddenly 
he  began  smiling. 

"It's  a  good  joke  on  me,"  he  explained.  "I've 
hunted  and  shot  game  so  long  I  forgot  I  do  not 
have  to  use  my  rifle  on  you."  And  he  grinned 
ferociously  as  he  observed  Lander's  empty  belt. 
"Death  without  any  noise.  Then  I  camp  by  your 
body  and  shoot  old  Clair,  the  meddler,  when  he 
comes  back.  Yes,  that  is  very  good.  Strange 
game  I'll  hang  up  for  the  boat  to  take  off.  And 
a  good  price  I'll  get  from  Hurry-Up  Parker." 

He  approached,  walking  on  his  toes  and 
crouching  ready  for  a  spring.  Lander,  as  if  hyp- 
notized by  fear,  did  not  stir.  When  within  ten 
feet  of  Lander  the  hunter  snatched  out  his  long 
butcher-knife,  dropped  his  rifle  and  sprang  on  his 
victim.  He  was  in  mid-air  when  Lander's  right 
hand  flashed  out  Papa  Clair's  gift  knife. 

Pinaud's  moccasins  struck  the  ground  only  for 
him  to  leap  back  to  recover  his  discarded  rifle. 
Lander  jumped  after  him  and  gave  him  no  time 
to  snatch  up  the  weapon.  To  add  to  the  drama 
of  the  scene  a  low  whistle  sounded  near  by.  Lan- 
der answered  it.     Now  Pinaud  knew  the  trap 


PINAUD,   THE   HUNTER  135 

he  had  set  had  caught  himself  unless  he  could 
make  his  escape  with  the  next  sixty  seconds.  He 
commenced  desperate  knife  play,  but  his  heart 
wilted  as  he  found  his  blade  turned  aside  with  a 
precision  and  firmness  he  had  never  encountered 
before. 

The  whistle  was  repeate'd.  With  a  yelp  of  dis- 
may Pinaud  kicked  at  Lander's  knee  and  thrust. 
There  was  a  slither  of  steel  against  steel  as  the 
two  blades  crossed  and  locked,  a  cunning  twist, 
and  Pinaud  fell  to  the  ground,  stabbed  through 
the  heart. 

It  was  thus  that  Papa  Clair  found  them.  Pin- 
aud's  face  was  composed  and  serene.  Dander's 
visage  was  wild  and  staring,  and  Ke  caught  his 
breath  hysterically  as  he  glare'd  at  the  dead  man. 
He  was  partl}^  arouse'd  b}^  Pa^a  Clair's  cheery 
words : 

"You've  made  it  much  simpler,  my  friend. 
We  can  now  ride  to  Eexington  without  any  fears 
of  being  overtaken  by  surprise.  But  there  is  one 
job  we  must  first  bother  to  do."  And  he  moved 
toward  the  dead  man. 

*'I  can't  touch  it  1"  shuddered  I^ander. 

"My  mule  and  I  Haven't  any  such  nice  feel- 
ings," chuckled  the  old  man.    "Don't  feel  put  out 


136        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

because  you  wouldn't  let  a  low-down  murderer 
add  you  to  his  list  of  victims.  His  death  is  much 
to  your  credit." 

Despite  his  frail  physique  he  lifted  the  dead 
man  and  threw  him  across  the  mule  and  turned 
away. 

"Wait,"  hoarsely  cried  Lander.  "If  you  want 
to  hide  it,  why  not  leave  it  here — ^under  rocks? 
We  must  shift  our  camp  anyway." 

"Hide  it !"  exclaimed  Papa  Clair.  "What  fool- 
ishness. Fm  going  to  hitch  it  to  a  tree  so  the 
look-out  on  the  boat  can  see  it  and  call  out, 
*Dead  man  on  the  starboard  bow.'  " 


Chapter  VI 


FIVE  WALKS 


JIM  BRIDGER  walked  over  to  a  small  tent 
back  of  the  cook-tent,  pushed  aside  the  flaps 
and  said: 

**You  can  come  out  now.    Boat*s  gone." 

The  tent  was  seemingly  filled  with  supplies. 
A  barrel,  empty,  moved  aside  and  from  a  little 
pen  within  the  barricade  emerged  Lander  and 
Papa  Clair. 

".Where's  Tilton?"  asked  Papa. 

"He  and  his  men  have  started  down  the  river 
in  two  twenty-foot  dugouts.  Had  all  I  could  do 
to  keep  the  boys  from  mounting  'em.  At  that 
Long  Simons  heaved  Tilton  into  the  river.  We 
shall  start  as  soon  as  the  keelboat  is  under  way." 

Greeted  by  friendly  grins  and  much  coarse 
humor  Lander  and  his  old  friend  walked  to  the 
river  bank,  where  some  thirty  men  were  ready  to 
start  the  keelboat  on  its  long  trip.    Etienne  Pre- 

137 


138        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

vost  was  to  go  as  master,  or  *'patron,"  and  as  the 
position  included  the  responsibiHties  of  steersman 
he  was  now  standing  on  top  of  the  long  cargo  box 
with  his  men  grouped  in  the  bow.  For  the  first 
of  the  trip  there  would  be  no  cordelling,  as  several 
bars  were  to  be  crossed  at  this  stretch  of  the  river 
and  poles  could  be  used.  Prevost  waved  his  hand 
to  the  two  new  recruits  and  called  out : 

"Change  your  minds.  Leave  the  mule  outfit 
and  go  with  me,  Etienne  Clair  and  young  man. 
I  have  been  sick  from  laughing  ever  since  the 
cap'n  of  the  Golden  Queen  told  me  how  the  sen- 
try bawled  out  'Deer  on  the  starboard  bow/  and 
they  sent  off  the  skiff  to  find  that  rascal  of  a 
Pinaud  hanging  from  a  tree.  There  is  room  for 
you  two  if  you  will  come." 

"You  make  me  very  happy  with  your  kind 
words,  Etienne  Prevost,  but  I  will  have  none  of 
the  river,"  replied  Papa  Clair. 

"An'  you'll  git  me  mad,  Prevost,  if  you  try  to 
steal  my  men.    I  need  'em,"  warned  Bridger. 

Prevost  smiled  and  called  to  his  crew.  The 
men  separated  into  two  groups,  each  man  pick- 
ing up  a  long  pole  with  a  knob  on  the  end.  Men 
on  the  bank  pushed  the  long  craft  off  until  its 
nose  caught  the  current. 


FIVE  WALKS  139 

'^A  has  les  perches!"  roared  Prevost,  grasping 
the  long  tiller,  although  he  would  not  be  called 
on  to  steer  so  long  as  the  polemen  propelled  it. 

Each  man  brought  the  knob  of  the  pole  into  the 
hollow  of  his  shoulder  and  thrust  the  tip  over  the 
side  until  it  found  bottom.  Then  a  St.  Louis  Cre- 
ole started  a  song;  the  men  ashore,  and  those  on 
board  not  busily  engaged,  began  discharging  their 
guns.  The  two  groups  of  polemen  became  two 
lines,  one  on  each  side  of  the  boat. 

Along  each  side  of  the  boat  extended  the  passe 
avant,  or  narrow  runway,  strongly  cleated  to  af- 
ford a  grip  for  the  men's  feet.  Surging  against 
their  poles  and  treading  on  the  cleats  with  every 
ounce  of  leg-strength  the  men  began  to  force  the 
boat  from  beneath  their  feet.  To  those  ashore  it 
looked  as  though  they  were  walking  down  the 
runways. 

As  the  boat  began  to  respond  to  the  pressure 
the  polemen  leaned  so  far  forward  as  to  seize  the 
cleats  with  their  free  hands,  presenting  the  gro- 
tesque spectacle  of  walking  on  all  fours.  Under 
such  an  impetus  the  boat  conquered  the  muddy 
current,  and  as  the  driving  force  was  equally 
divided  held  a  straight  course,  the  steersmen 
holding  the  tiller  loosely. 


I40        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

Another  volley,  supplemented  with  much  shout- 
ing-, rang  out  from  the  bank,  and  Prevost  roared 
his  second  order : 

"Levez  les  perches!" 

Up  came  the  poles,  only  to  drop  overboard  as 
the  first  order  was  repeated;  and  again  the  two 
lines  of  men  buckled  down  to  it  with  their  shoul- 
ders against  the  knobs  and  their  feet  pushing  the 
cleats  forward.  To  Lander  the  uninitiated  it  was 
a  stirring  sight,  not  so  much  because  of  its  novelty 
as  for  the  romance  and  adventure  it  suggested. 
The  men  must  carry  the  long  tow-line  along 
shores  almost  impassable.  Whether  on  the  move 
or  tied  up  for  the  night  there  would  be  much  dan- 
ger from  the  Indians,  especially  from  the  Ari- 
caras.  It  was  destined  that  some  of  the  light- 
hearted  company  would  never  return. 

"Enough  powder's  been  wasted,  boys,"  called 
out  Bridger.  "Give  'em  cheers  and  make  ready 
to  start.  Come  and  help  me  get  out  the 
equipments." 

Lander  was  soon  busy  handing  out  one  pair  of 
three-point  blankets  and  powder  and  ball  to  each 
man.  Finishing  this  task  he  joined  Papa  Clair 
and  Bridger  in  assigning  the  mules.  Each  man 
had  two,  one  to  ride  and  one  to  lead  as  a  pack 


FIVE  WALKS  141 

animal.  Then  followed  the  apportionment  of 
goods  for  each  mule,  consisting  of  beaver  traps, 
guns,  powder,  lead,  blankets,  liquor  in  curious 
flat  casks,  and  clothing.  The  supplies  of  bacon 
and  hardtack,  and  several  hundred  pounds  of  corn 
meal,  went  with  the  commissary  department, 
which  also  had  charge  of  a  score  of  sheep.  The 
last  were  to  furnish  meat  until  the  company  struck 
the  buffalo  country.  In  addition  to  Bridger  and 
Papa  Clair  there  were  forty-five  men  in  the 
company. 

The  scene  became  very  animated  when  the 
mules  rebelled,  some  breaking  loose  and  running 
away,  others  rolling  and  scattering  their  loads. 
Each  man  was  responsible  for  his  two  animals 
and  it  was  some  time  before  rebels  were  run  down 
and  brought  back. 

The  word  to  march  finally  was  given.  The 
course  was  originally  a  buffalo  trail,  then  an 
Indian  trail  and  now  the  mountain  man's  recog- 
nized road.  A  few  years  later  it  would  be  known 
as  the  Oregon  Trail  and  by  the  plains  tribes  as 
"The  Great  Medicine  Road."  For  two  days  it 
followed  the  Santa  Fe  Trail,  then  swung  aside  to 
the  northwest  and  after  crossing  Wakarusa  Creek 
held  on  for  thirty  miles  to  the  Kansas. 


142         KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

After  a  few  days  of  travel  the  mules  became 
accustomed,  if  not  reconciled,  to  their  burdens 
and  Bridger  proceeded  to  instill  a  Httle  military 
discipline.  He  divided  the  company  into  four 
divisions  of  nine  guards  each  and  named  nine  of- 
ficers. Every  third  day,  as  soon  as  camp  was 
made  and  the  mules  had  been  picketed  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  encampment,  an  officer  posted  the 
guards.  Each  twenty  minutes  thereafter  the  offi- 
cer would  call  out,  "Airs  well,"  and  each  guard 
in  turn  was  expected  to  answer.  When  a  man 
was  found  asleep  at  his  post  he  was  ordered  to 
give  up  his  gun  in  Bridger's  tent,  submit  to  a  fine, 
usually  five  dollars,  and  be  sentenced  to  "three 
walks,"  that  is  to  travel  afoot  for  three  days.  Be- 
cause of  the  growing  danger  from  prowling 
Indians  the  guards  were  not  permitted  to  move 
from  their  posts,  and  this  rule  would  have  made 
the  struggle  against  sleep  a  hard  one  had  they 
been  required  to  remain  on  duty  longer  than  the 
scheduled  two  and  a  half  hours. 

Lander  found  himself  in  Porker's  division  and 
he  fancied  the  man's  eyes  had  a  cruel  glint  as 
they  rested  on  him.  He  disliked  the  man  intensely 
and  wished  most  heartily  he  had  been  assigned 
to  Long  Simons'  squad.    However,  he  turned  to 


FIVE  WALKS  143 

his  strange  duties  with  a  will,  remembering  it  was 
Bridger  and  not  Porker  who  was  his  boss.  And 
there  was  much  satisfaction  in  witnessing  the 
esteem  in  which  Bridger  held  Papa  Clair.  Papa 
was  not  required  to  act  as  captain  of  the  guard,  as 
the  nine  leaders  easily  looked  after  the  four 
divisions. 

From  the  start  there  was  much  about  the 
adventure  which  Lander  enjoyed  immensely. 
The  wildness  and  freedom  of  it  all  was  a  magnif- 
icent revelation  to  one  who  for  two  years  had 
been  cooped  up  in  a  store.  A  few  minor  details 
were  irritating.  He  had  no  coffee  nor  sugar. 
The  interminable  bacon  was  occasionally  varied 
with  a  piece  of  mutton,  but  mutton  soon  palled 
on  his  appetite.  His  companions  encouraged  him 
to  hope  for  better  things  by  repeatedly  dwelling 
on  the  sumptuous  feasts  that  would  follow  their 
first  meeting  with  the  buffalo. 

All  went  well  with  Lander  until  after  they  had 
crossed  the  Big  Blue,  fording  it  near  the  mouth 
of  the  Little  Blue.  He  had  ceased  to  be  suspicious 
of  Porker's  intentions. 

Then  came  the  night  when  his  division  stood 
the  first  watch. 

Porker  stationed  his  men  as  usual.     Lander's 


144        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

pack  mule  had  been  possessed  of  the  devil  that 
day,  bolting  twice  over  the  back  trail  and  losing 
his  load  by  rolling.  No  sooner  had  Lander  re- 
packed and  secured  the  load,  v^ith  his  mates  a 
long  line  of  dots  on  the  edge  of  the  plain,  than  his 
riding  mule  viciously  leaped  sidewise  and  threw 
his  rider  in  a  patch  of  prickly  pears.  Exhausted 
by  his  extra  exertions  and  thoroughly  disgusted 
with  the  prickly  pear  Lander  made  camp  in  a  dis- 
gruntled frame  of  mind  and  dog-tired  when 
assigned  to  his  post. 

Those  not  on  duty  were  smoking  and  singing 
and  telling  stories  or  grinning  secretly  as  they 
listened  to  Bridger's  enthusiastic  description  of 
the  wonders  of  the  Yellowstone  country.  Brid- 
ger  picked  Papa  Clair  for  his  audience  as  he  had 
not  told  him  the  stories  before.  Papa  was  polite 
from  his  moccasins  to  his  snowy  thatch  and 
endeavored  to  smother  any  signs  of  incredulity. 
Yet  the  best  he  could  do  he  could  not  refrain  at 
times  from  emitting  a  low : 

"Name  of  heaven !  Holy  blue !  Caves  of  war- 
paint !  Cascades  of  boiling  water !  A  basin  filled 
with  scalding  water  springs  which  spout  high  to 
the  heavens !  Forests  turned  to  stone !  Believe  ? 
Mon  Dieii!     Of  course.     M'sieu  says  it.     It  is 


FIVE  WALKS  145 

enough.  It  is  so.  But  it  can  not  be  any  country 
on  the  surface  of  the  globe.  M'sieu  must  have 
gone  through  a  hole  and  found  hell !'' 

The  shouts  of  laughter  greeting  such  outbursts 
increased  Lander^s  hunger  for  companionship. 
Then  he  discovered  he  was  so  sleepy  that  only  by 
some  miracle  could  he  hope  to  keep  awake.  He 
w^ould  be  helpless  unless  he  walked  about.  He 
fought  the  minutes  standing  erect  and  found  him- 
self swaying  on  his  feet.    He  dared  not  sit  down. 

As  it  grew  darker  and  the  camp  quieted  and 
there  was  no  one  to  keep  tabs  on  him  he  took  to 
trotting  round  his  post  in  a  small  circle  and  found 
the  action  did  much  to  keep  him  up.  Every 
twenty  minutes  Porker's  voice  bawled  the  call, 
and  as  often  the  men  repeated  it,  the  answer  rip- 
pling in  a  circle  about  the  camp. 

Six  times  the  call  came  and  was  answered,  and 
Lander  ceased  his  nervous  pacing  back  and  forth 
and  became  confident  he  could  fight  the  remain- 
ing thirty  minutes.  There  was  no  life  about  the 
camp  except  as  the  ghostly  forms  of  gray  wolves 
drifted  near  to  investigate.  Never  had  half  an 
hour  dragged  out  to  such  a  miserable  length.  But 
at  last  came  the  call,  and  another  ten  minutes 
would  see  the  guards  free  to  seek  their  blankets. 


146        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

The  ten  minutes  passed  and  the  relief  came  on 
with  no  one  coming  to  relieve  Lander.  He  could 
not  understand  how  a  mistake  could  have  been 
made.  He  did  not  dare  to  leave  his  post  to  learn 
the  reason ;  nor  did  he  fancy  yelling  for  the  cap- 
tain to  come  to  him,  thereby  perhaps  arousing  the 
whole  camp.  Had  he  been  sure  the  captain  was 
Long  Simons  he  would  have  risked  finding  him 
and  explaining. 

For  the  life  of  him  it  did  not  seem  that  he 
could  endure  another  twenty  minutes,  and  yet  he 
was  determined  to  hold  on  for  that  period.  After 
the  new  captain  called  his  "all's  well,"  Lander 
would  notice  how  many  men  answered.  If  nine 
replied  besides  himself  it  would  show  his  relief 
had  been  posted  apart  from  him.  Instead  of 
revealing  the  captain's  error  he  would  steal  back 
to  his  blankets,  soothed  with  knowing  he  had 
acted  generously. 

By  a  superhuman  effort  he  kept  his  eyes  open, 
and  at  last  a  voice  called  out  the  signal.  It  was 
not  Long  Simons'  voice.  One,  two,  three — nine 
men  in  all,  including  Lander,  answered.  The 
detail  had  lacked  a  man,  and  he  had  been  held 
over  without  being  warned  of  the  necessity. 

Now  ire  drove  sleep  from  his  mind.    It  seemed 


FIVE  WALKS  147 

to  be  the  most  serious  affront  that  could  be  put 
upon  him.  He  tried  to  recall  the  captain's  voice 
and  identify  it.  He  decided  not  to  answer  the 
next  twenty-minute  call.  The  captain  would 
come  out  to  see  if  he  were  asleep  and  he  would 
demand  an  explanation  and  ask  to  be  released. 

Because  of  his  increasing  anger  the  time  passed 
quickly. 

"All's  well  I"  called  the  captain,  his  voice 
sounding  much  nearer  than  it  did  on  the  first  call. 

The  reply  was  made  by  three  men,  skipped 
Lander  and  after  a  few  moments'  hesitation  was 
taken  up  by  the  fifth  guard.  As  he  had  expected 
Lander  soon  heard  the  soft  steps  of  some  one 
approaching  and  made  out  a  vague  figure  in  the 
starlight. 

"Hah!"  he  snapped. 

"That  ye,  Lander?'' 

"I  should  say  so.  Who  are  you  ?  Sounds  like 
Rummy." 

"Rummy's  right,"  answered  the  captain,  swag- 
gering forward.  "Why  didn't  ye  answer  my 
call?" 

"Because  I've  stood  one  watch  and  am  tired. 
I  wasn't  relieved.  Get  a  man  here  so  I  can 
turn  in." 


148        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"Like  thunder !  Ye'll  have  to  stick.  I'm  a  man 
shy.  One  of  my  men  was  kicked  by  a  mule.  An' 
I  want  to  know  th'  real  reason  why  ye  didn't 
answer  when  ye  heard  me  hoot.  Orders  says  ye 
must." 

"I've  told  you.  Keep  the  post  yourself.  Vm 
going  to  turn  in."  And  shouldering  his  rifle 
Lander  stalked  toward  the  camp. 

"Say,  ye  danged  greenhorn,  come  back  here  on 
th'  jump.    Sleepin'  on  yer  post " 

"You're  a  liar!" 

"An'  darin'  to  tell  me  to  stand  yer  watch! 
I'll " 

"You  go  plumb  to  the  devil!"  snarled  Lander, 
resuming  his  way. 

He  believed  he  had  been  in  his  blankets  only  a 
minute  when  he  was  aroused  by  a  moccasin  stir- 
ring his  ribs.  He  blinked  and  sat  up,  then  leaped 
to  his  feet  inarticulate  from  wTath.  Porker  stood 
there,  glaring  at  him  evilly. 

"So  ye  dis'beyed  orders  an'  quit  yer  post  in  th' 
Injun  country,  ye  runt,"  accused  Porker.  "I'll 
make  a  zample  of  ye." 

"You  put  up  that  job  with  Rummy.  Played  me 
for  two  watches,  you  overgrown  jackass." 


FIVE  WALKS  149 

With  a  deep-throated  growl  Porker  drew  back 
a  foot  and  Lander  leaped  aside  to  escape  a  kick. 

"I'll  Tarn  ye  to  dis'bey  orders,  an'  give  me  any 
back  talk,"  roared  Porker,  rushing  him. 

Lander  dropped  his  hand  to  his  boot  and  pulled 
his  knife,  informing: 

"I've  fought  your  style  once.  Now  you'll  fight 
mine." 

Nothing  loath,  Porker  whipped  out  his  butch- 
er-knife and  made  a  murderous  jab.  To  his 
amazement  he  felt  Lander's  knife  against  his,  and 
the  steel  seemed  to  have  fingers,  for  the  butcher- 
knife  was  sent  high  in  the  air. 

"Pick  it  up  and  come  back  here,"  snarled 
Lander. 

"By  the  Lord  Harry!  Fighting  with  weapons 
in  my  camp!"  thundered  Bridger,  running 
between  the  two. 

Both  began  explaining  at  once,  Porker  black 
with  fury  at  having  been  disarmed.  Bridger 
silenced  them  and  told  Porker  to  tell  his  story. 
Porker  did  so,  making  out  a  very  serious  case 
against  Lander. 

Bridger  turned  to  Lander  after  Porker  had 
finished    and    nodded    for    him   to   present    his 


I50        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

defense.  Lander  quickly  narrated  his  experience. 
Bridger  wheeled  on  the  bully  and  demanded : 

"You  put  him  in  to  take  the  place  of  one  of 
Rummy's  men?" 

''Had  to,  boss.  One  man  shy,  kicked  by  a 
mule." 

"Why  didn't  you  explain  to  him  ?" 

"Didn't  'low  there  was  any  call  to.  Orders  is 
orders  an'  he  quit  his  post,  leavin'  it  naked." 

"I  left  Rummy  there,"  broke  in  Lander. 

"Porker,  you'll  act  as  guard  after  this.  Papa 
Clair  will  take  your  place  as  captain.  Lander, 
you  quit  your  post  w^ithout  being  relieved.  It 
was  your  place  to  stick  there  till  morning  if  neces- 
sary. You  should  have  depended  on  me  to  see 
justice  was  done.  You're  fined  ten  dollars  and 
three  walks.  I'll  not  take  your  gun  as  you  may 
need  it  against  Injuns." 

Three  days  of  w^alking  decided  Lander  it 
would  be  better  to  fit  into  Bridger's  machine  than 
to  try  to  be  an  independent  cog.  He  also  began 
to  appreciate  the  virtue  of  placing  the  general 
good  above  any  personal  preference.  He  vowed 
he  would  never  be  sentenced  to  walk  again.  Yet 
very  soon  he  was  to  find  himself  in  trouble,  and 
this  time  because  his  intentions  were  altruistic. 


FIVE  WALKS  151 

The  company  had  been  traveling  along  south  of 
the  Platte  and  now  swung  in  close  to  the  river. 
Four  days  after  striking  the  river  two  of  Brid- 
ger's  hunters,  who  had  wintered  in  the  mountains 
and  were  now  on  their  way  to  meet  the  outfit, 
brought  in  a  load  of  buffalo  meat.  The  entire 
company  was  hungry  for  fresh  meat  that  was  not 
mutton.  The  sheep,  too,  had  dwindled  in  num- 
bers until  only  Bridger  and  some  of  his  right- 
hand  men  partook  of  it. 

With  the  imagination  of  the  greenhorn  Lander 
had  reveled  in  his  anticipations  of  buffalo.  The 
old  timers  had  regaled  him  with  descriptions  of 
its  lusciousness  until  his  mouth  watered.  It  did 
not  seem  as  if  he  could  wait  until  the  meat  was 
cooked.  When  it  was  found  the  buffalo  chips 
were  too  green  to  burn  and  that  there  was  no 
other  fuel,  he  was  foremost  in  foraging  far  and 
wide  in  search  of  dry  sunflower  stalks.  By 
means  of  these  the  meat  finally  boiled  and  the 
company  ravenously  gathered  for  the  feast. 

As  there  were  no  dishes  the  cook  selected  a 
clean  spot  on  the  ground  and  emptied  the  kettle. 
Then  the  men  lunged  with  their  long  butcher- 
knives,  spearing  meat  with  one  hand  and  holding 
their  little  bags  of  salt  in  the  other.    With  great 


152        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

zest  Lander  secured  a  promising  portion  but  on 
endeavoring  to  bolt  a  morsel  found  it  to  be  as 
tough  and  resilient  as  rubber.  His  teeth  were 
strong  and  sharp-set  by  hunger  but  it  was  impos- 
sible for  him  to  chew  it,  let  alone  to  swallow  it. 

"Bull!'*  grunted  Long  Simons  observing  the 
collapse  of  Lander's  hopes.  "Tough  old  bull, 
too." 

It  was  one  of  the  great  disappointments  of 
Lander's  life.  He  had  set  his  heart  on  that  first 
meal  of  buffalo  steaks.  Papa  Clair  sought  to 
cheer  him  up  by  assuring : 

"Very  soon  some  fat  cows.  Ah,  name  of 
heaven !    But  that  will  be  fine  eating !" 

"Don't  tell  me  any  more,"  growled  Lander. 
"One  must  be  a  wolf  to  eat  anything  grown  in 
this  country." 

They  pushed  on  up  the  river  to  the  South' 
Platte  where  the  company  was  put  on  the  alert  by 
a  scout  discovering  three  dead  buffaloes  near  the 
confluence  of  the  two  forks. 

"Injun  work!  We  must  'a'  scared  'em  away 
before  they  could  dress  the  critters,"  said  Bridger. 

Throwing  out  scouts  on  each  side  and  far  in 
advance  they  proceeded  to  investigate  the  huge 


FIVE  WALKS  153 

carcasses.  Bridger  examined  them  carefully  and 
was  unable  to  find  a  wound. 

"Boys,  these  fellers  was  killed  by  a  bolt  of 
lightning","  he  informed.  "See  how  they  fell  with 
their  noses  close  together.  Their  jackets  will  do 
for  a  bull-boat.  Simons,  Porker  and  Rummy,  git 
their  hides  off.  Papa  Clair,  take  some  men  and 
git  some  willow  boughs." 

In  what  Lander  considered  to  be  a  miraculously 
brief  period  of  time  the  framework  of  willow  was 
constructed  and  the  green  hides  stretched  over  it. 
The  result  was  a  huge,  awkward,  buoyant  craft, 
floating  the  water  as  gently  as  a  bubble  and  draw- 
ing less  than  ten  inches  of  water  when  loaded 
with  three  tons  of  supplies.  By  aid  of  this  the 
company  crossed  the  south  fork  to  continue  up 
the  south  side  of  the  north  fork.  It  was  an  ideal 
boat  for  shallow  streams  like  the  Platte,  the 
Cheyenne  and  the  Niobrara,  but  helpless  in  deep 
water  where  poles  could  not  be  used,  and  danger- 
ous in  swift  waters  where  snags  were  thick,  as 
the  covering  was  easily  punctured. 

'As  in  other  things  the  white  man  had  improved 
on  the  bull-boat  of  the  Missouri  tribes,  which 
was  nearly  circular  in  shape  and  propelled  by 
paddles,   every   stroke   causing  them  to   revolve 


154        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

nearly  around.  This  boat,  so  quickly  put  to- 
gether, was  twice  as  long  as  it  was  wide  and 
easily  controlled  by  polemen. 

After  the  crossing,  and  when  Chimney  Rock 
came  into  view.  Lander's  zeal  to  be  helpful  got 
him  into  his  second  bit  of  trouble.  In  the  clear 
atmosphere  the  Rock  appeared  to  be  very  near, 
although  distant  two  or  three  days'  journey. 
Turning  his  pack  mule  over  to  Papa  Clair,  Lan- 
der rode  off  one  side  and  up  a  low  bluff  to  see 
what  lay  beyond.  From  Papa  Clair  he  had 
learned  that  Bridger  believed  a  large  band  of  In- 
dians was  following  the  outfit.  He  wished  to 
act  the  scout  and  be  the  first  to  discover  the  red 
men.  Instead  of  Indians  he  beheld  a  large  body 
of  buffalo.  The  cows  at  this  season  were  thin 
and  sorry-looking  creatures  and  poor  eating,  but 
near  the  edge  of  the  herd  he  made  out  several 
that  looked  very  fat.  Could  he  take  fat  cow  meat 
into  camp  he  would  indeed  be  a  hero. 

With  a  kick  of  the  heel  he  sent  the  mule  slid- 
ing down  the  north  side  of  the  bluff  and  made  for 
the  buffaloes.  The  old  bull  sentinels  lifted  their 
shaggy  heads  and  bellowed  a  rumbling  warning. 
The  herd  slowly  got  in  motion  and,  by  the  time 
Lander  was  clear  of  the  bluff,  was  in  a  well-or- 


FIVE  WALKS  155 

ganized  retreat,  the  bulls  bringing  up  the  rear  and 
guarding  the  sides  most  chivalrously,  the  cows 
and  calves  running  in  the  middle.  It  was  near 
sundown  and  the  lateral  beams  of  light  made 
gorgeous  play  on  the  clouds  of  dust  kicked  up  by 
the  heavy  creatures.  Lander  kept  up  the  chase 
for  a  mile  or  more,  tlien  gave  it  up  as  useless  and 
cursing  his  luck  rode  back  to  the  company. 

When  he  entered  camp  he  was  struck  by  the 
silence  of  the  men  and  their  averted  faces.  When 
one  did  look  at  him,  especially  if  it  were  Rummy 
or  Porker,  he  read  keen  hate  in  the  furtive  glance. 
Bridger  sat  alone  before  his  small  tent,  his  hands 
hanging  limply  over  his  knees,  his  brown  hair 
brushed  back,  and  his  gray  eyes  frowning 
savagely. 

* 'Lander,  come  here,'*  he  sternly  called  out. 

Much  puzzled  Lander  advanced  and  stood  at 
attention. 

"Why  did  you  raise  the  buffaloes?"  curtly 
demanded  Bridger,  his  eyes  now  blazing  with 
suppressed  wrath. 

''Raise  the  buffaloes,"  Lander  faltered. 
"Why,  I  saw  some  fat  cows.  I  wanted  to  kill 
some  and  bring  the  boys  some  real  meat.  The 
sheep  was  bad  enough  when  we  had  it."  • 


156        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"Never  mind  that/*  interrupted  Bridger. 
"You've  been  guilty  of  raising  the  buffaloes.  If 
you  was  a'  Injun,  hunting  with  your  tribe,  an' 
you  done  that  your  lodge  would  be  cut  to  pieces 
by  the  'soldiers'  an'  your  dogs  killed.  If  it  was 
the  second  time  you  done  it  you'd  be  beaten  with 
clubs,  perhaps  killed.  If  you  was  a  chief  it 
wouldn't  make  any  difference;  for  when  a  white 
or  red  raises  the  buffalo  it  means  his  people  must 
go  hungry." 

"But  I  didn't  know,"  cried  Lander. 

"A  poor  stomach-filler  to  give  hungry  men. 
'Another  time  don't  try  things  you  don't  know. 
Put  your  gun  in  my  camp.  Ten  dollars  fine  and 
five  walks." 

As  Lander  slunk  back  among  the  men  he  found 
no  welcome.  Muttered  curses  were  hurled  at  him 
from  all  sides.  Only  the  fear  of  Bridger  saved 
him  from  violence.  Even  Long  Simons  refused 
to  show  any  good  nature  and  grunted : 

"Bridger  oughter  make  ye  keep  five  miles 
behind  us.    Then  th'  Injuns  would  git  ye." 

Lander  waited  for  Papa  Clair  to  give  him  sym- 
pathy, but  the  old  man  kept  away  from  him.  In 
this  fashion  did  he  learn  what  an  impardonable 
offense  he  had  committed.     Had  the  company 


FIVE  WALKS  157 

been  out  of  food  his  thoughtlessness  might  have 
sentenced  them  all  to  starvation. 

This  resentment  against  the  man  who  had 
raised  the  buffalo  lost  none  of  its  edge  even  after 
Lander  had  walked  away  three  days  of  his  sen- 
tence. The  spectacle  of  him  limping  into  camp 
long  after  the  evening  meal  had  been  served  won 
him  no  sympathy.  Papa  Clair  did  see  to  it  that 
his  coarse  rations  were  waiting  for  him. 

Fortunately  it  was  not  his  squad's  turn  to  take 
a  watch  until  near  morning.  With  nothing  but 
disagreeable  thoughts  to  occupy  his  mind  and 
denied  the  companionship  of  his  fellows,  Lander 
sullenly  aided  in  building  the  raft  of  cottonwoods 
on  which  they  crossed  the  forks  of  the  Laramie. 
They  found  several  more  hunters  arrived  from 
the  mountains  to  announce  the  summer  rendez- 
vous would  be  held  on  Green  River  near  Horse 
Creek.  The  coming  of  the  hunters  and  their 
statement  that  trade  would  be  excellent  if  the 
A.  F.  C.  outfit  did  not  reach  the  rendezvous  first 
put  Bridger  in  good  humor.  Liquor  was  served 
and  a  big  drunk  indulged  in.  Bridger  was  also 
elated  to  learn  that  Jim  Baker,  who  next  to  Car- 
son was  destined  to  be  most  highly  valued  by 
Fremont  as  a  scout,  was  due  to  arrive  soon. 


158        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"Dern  him  for  a  bunch  of  foolish  fancies  an* 
beliefs  in  Injun  magic,"  chuckled  Bridger  remin- 
iscently.  *'The  Snake  people  have  filled  him  full 
of  funny  notions.  But  as  a  mountain  man  there 
ain't  nothing  in  the  Missouri  Valley  that  can 
teach  him  tricks.'* 

"I  remember  when  he  went  to  the  mountains  a 
boy.  Went  for  the  A.  F.  C.  I  know  of  no  man 
that  has  stuck  to  the  mountains  so  close  as 
M'sieu  Baker,"  added  Papa  Clair.  "I  once  saw 
him  lose  nine  thousand  dollars  at  a  monte-bank 
at  a  rendezvous.  He  was  on  his  way  to  the 
States  to  buy  a  farm.  In  the  morning  he  started 
back  for  the  mountains." 

Bridger  announced  the  course  would  be  to  the 
Sweetwater,  striking  the  river  near  Independence 
Rock.  As  this  route  would  be  a  little  off  the 
Platte  Lander  feared  lest  Baker  might  miss  the 
outfit  and  keep  on  traveling  east.  He  was  bold 
enough  to  say  as  much.  Bridger  eyed  him  in 
silence  for  a  minute.  Those  standing  by  doubled 
up  and  thrust  their  fists  into  their  mouths.  Even 
Papa  Clair  smiled. 

Bridger  said : 

"For  just  pure,  cussed,  fool  notions  there  ain't 
nothing  west  of  the  Mississippi  that  can  show 


FIVE  WALKS  159 

you  anything,  young  man.  Git  lost!  Old  Jim 
Baker  git  lost  on  nothing  bigger'n  a  continent? 
Run  by  this  outfit  without  seeing  the  trail  ?  Wal, 
wal,  live  an*  learn.  Only  some  folks  must  live  a 
thousand  years,  I  reckon.  How  many  walks 
left?'* 

"One." 

"Spend  it  trying  to  turn  your  thoughts  on 
yourself.  Then  think  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  an* 
try  to  grasp  some  of  the  things  you  don't  seem 
to  cotton  to  just  now." 

That  last  walk  was  undertaken  in  much  sullen- 
ness  of  spirit.  Instead  of  following  the  trail 
made  by  the  many  mules  Lander  deliberately 
swung  off  to  one  side.  Owing  to  the  increased 
danger  from  Indians  Bridger  had  given  back  his 
rifle,  and  suddenly  the  ambition  seized  him  to 
show  these  uncouth  men  that  he  was  amply  able  to 
care  for  himself.  He  would  get  game  and  camp 
by  himself.  He  would  not  bother  to  make  the 
outfit's  camp  that  night,  but  would  take  his  time 
and  might  keep  away  for  several  days.  Then  he 
would  coolly  drop  in  on  them  and  refuse  food, 
explaining  that  he  had  been  stuffing  himself. 

His  plan  resulted  as  any  plainsman  could  have 
warned  him.     Once  he  quit  the  trail  he  was  lost. 


i6o        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

He  knew  which  way  was  west  by  the  sun,  but  the 
western  horizon  was  a  mighty  big  stretch  to  aim 
at.  He  also  knew  the  river  was  somewhere  on  his 
right,  and  that  later  it  would  bar  his  path  where 
it  flowed  from  the  south  and  before  swinging 
east  to  make  the  Missouri.  But  whether  he  was 
abreast  of  the  company  or  had  gone  ahead  of  it 
he  had  no  idea.  He  knew  he  had  made  excellent 
time  as  he  had  munched  his  hardtack  rations  and 
bacon  as  he  walked.  That  night  he  camped  alone 
from  necessity. 

There  followed  several  days  of  lonely  wander- 
ings. His  food,  consisting  of  hardtack,  was  soon 
consumed.  He  managed  to  shoot  a  prairie  hen 
but  had  traveled  so  wide  of  the  river  that  he  de- 
pended on  buffalo  wallows  for  water.  He  was 
hungry,  but  he  suffered  more  from  loneHness 
than  from  lack  of  food. 

At  last  he  came  to  a  stream  which  he  followed 
until  it  merged  with  another.  He  was  at  the 
junction  of  the  Sweetwater  and  the  north  fork  of 
the  Platte,  only  he  did  not  know  it.  In  the  south- 
east were  the  Laramie  Mountains  and  in  the  north 
the  Rattlesnake  Hills.  These  were  unnamed  so 
far  as  his  knowledge  of  them  went.  It  was  in  the 
middle  of  the  afternoon  when  he  threw  himself 


FIVE  WALKS  i6i 

down  by  the  stream  to  drink  and  bathe  his  head 
in  the  icy  water.  As  he  rested  there  a  buffalo 
cow,  fairly  fat,  clambered  down  from  a  circular 
mound  and  made  for  the  river.  By  luck  Lander 
managed  to  make  a  kill. 

As  a  butcher  he  had  much  to  learn  but  with 
the  knife  he  was  an  artist.  In  a  short  time  he  had 
lifted  the  back  fat  and  had  the  tongue  cooking 
over  a  fire.  He  commenced  to  eat  when  the  meat 
was  but  partly  cooked. 

"You're  a  devil  of  a  feller !"  remarked  a  voice 
behind  him. 

Flopping  wildly  about  he  beheld  a  white  man, 
tanned  to  the  color  of  an  Indian,  his  hair  long  and 
unkempt,  his  face  smothered  in  whiskers. 

"Who  might  ye  be,  a  comin'  out  hyar  an' 
skeerin'  all  th'  Injuns  up  into  Canada  by  yer  bold 
ways  ?" 

"Have  some  grub.  I  belong  with  Jim  Brid- 
ger's  outfit.  Strayed  away  like  a  fool  greenhorn. 
Who  are  you?" 

"Jim  Baker,  fresh  from  Green  River.  Reckon 
I'll  cut  off  a  leetle  more  meat  an'  set  it  to 
cookin'." 

So  this  was  the  man  who  was  indirectly  respon- 
sible for  his  keeping  aloof  from  his  mates  until  he 


i62        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

became  lost,  Lander  mused.  This  shaggy  creat- 
ure was  the  man  whose  coming  was  so  eagerly 
looked  forward  to  by  Bridger.  Lander  was  dis- 
appointed. He  watched  Baker  skilfully  slice  off 
several  portions  and  proceed  to  roast  them.  He 
observed  how  he  tossed  a  bit  over  his  shoulder 
but  did  not  know  this  was  an  offering  to  ghosts. 

Baker  at  last  satisfied  his  enormous  appetite 
and  produced  a  pipe  from  the  bead-embroidered 
holder  worn  around  his  neck.  Filling  this  and 
lighting  it  he  puffed  to  the  sky  and  earth  and  four 
wind  gods,  then  abruptly  inquired: 

"How 'bout  Injuns?'' 

"None  round  here.  Ain't  seen  a  one  during  my 
tramp.    Been  going  it  alone  for  four  days." 

"Lawd  a  massy!  But  ye  be  some  traveler!" 
admired  Baker.    "An'  ain't  see'  no  Injuns  ?" 

"Nothing  but  wolves.  There's  two  now  look- 
ing down  at  us  from  the  top  of  the  bluff  behind 
us." 

"What's  th'  color  o'  their  legs?"  lazily  asked 
Baker  without  turning  his  head. 

"Only  their  heads  and  shoulders  show.  Now 
they're  sneaking  away." 

Baker  became  silent,  seeming  to  forget  he  was 
not  alone.     Next  he  muttered  to  himself  and 


FIVE  WALKS  163 

repeated  something  Lander  thought  was  gibber- 
ish, but  which  was  a  Snake  charm  against,  evil 
medicine;  for  Baker  was  as  superstitious  as  the 
Indians  among  whom  he  had  Hved. 

"How'd  ye  git  lost?"  he  abruptly  asked. 

Lander  explained,  adding: 

''Bridger  laughed  at  my  thinking  you  might 
pass  the  outfit  without  knowing  it.  But  here  you 
are.    The  laugh  will  be  on  him." 

"Most  likely,"  gravely  agreed  Baker.  "Ye're 
a  queer  young  cuss.  Can't  ye  see  ye  got  ahead  o' 
th'  outfit?  Meetin*  me  proves  that.  Ye  walked 
fast,  prob'ly  a  bit  skeered.  Bridger  halted  an* 
sent  men  back  to  find  ye.  He  must  be  cussin'  in 
a  way  that'd  do  a  man's  heart  good  by  this  time. 
While  his  men  was  goin*  back  ye  swung  out  one 
side  an'  passed  th'  outfit.  I  suttinly  want  to  be 
round  when  Jim  lets  out  on  ye." 

Saying  this  Baker  fished  out  his  medicine  bag 
and  cautiously  opened  it,  screening  the  act  with 
his  body.  Tired  of  being  ignored  and  criticized. 
Lander  took  his  rifle  and  strolled  toward  the 
bluffs. 

Baker  was  absorbed  with  his  medicine  and  toolc 
no  notice  of  Lander's  departure  until  he  was  well 
under  the  bluff.     Replacing  the  bag  he  glanced 


i64        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

about  and  beheld  Lander  behind  a  boulder,  his 
rifle  aiming  at  two  wolves.  The  wolves'  heads 
were  all  that  was  visible. 

"Don't  shoot!"  yelled  Baker.  "Come  back 
here!" 

He  spoke  too  late.  The  rifle  cracked  and  one 
of  the  wolves  came  crashing  down  the  side  of  the 
bluff.  It  rolled  to  Lander's  feet  and  caused  him 
to  think  he  had  lost  his  senses  by  exposing  the 
legs  of  a  man. 

"Good  heavens!"  he  gasped,  staggering  back. 

With  an  oath  Baker  ran  to  him,  yelping : 

"Wanter  cook  us,  ye  derned  fool  ?" 

"What  IS  it?"  faltered  Lander,  glaring  at  the 
wolf's  head  and  body  and  the  pair  of  legs. 

"Injuns  spy  in'  on  us.  Now  that  yeVe  salted 
one  o'  them  th'  hull  tribe'll  be  here  after  our  ha'r." 

With  that  he  ripped  aside  the  wolfskin  and 
revealed  a  warrior  in  full  paint.  One  glance  and 
he  muttered: 

"Sin  an'  mis'ry!  Jest  as  I  feared.  Black- 
foot!  Lawdy  massy,  but  won't  they  walk  it  to 
us!  Wal,  he's  dead.  Wish  they  all  was.  Git 
yer  sculp  an'  we'll  be  pickin'  out  a  good  place 
to  die  in." 


FIVE  WALKS  .      165 

"Scalp?  I — I  don't  want  it,"  shuddered  Lan- 
der.   "I  thought  it  was  a  wolf." 

"Yer  medicine  must  be  mighty  weak.  Never 
right  to  waste  ha'r.  This  is  a  prime  one,  too.  It 
counts  something  to  show  a  Blackfoot  sculp.  I'll 
make  a  feast  for  my  medicine  an'  give  it  th' 
sculp." 

Lander  turned  his  head  as  the  mountain  man 
whipped  out  his  knife  and  quickly  raised  the  war- 
rior's scalp  lock  and  thrust  it  into  his  hunting 
shirt.  Then  he  sounded  the  Snake  cry  of 
defiance. 

"You'll  call  them  down  on  us,"  remonstrated 
Lander. 

"If  they  don't  kill  us  ye'll  make  me  die  laffin'," 
informed  Baker.  "FoUer  me  right  pert.  I've  got 
a  mule  hid  back  a  piece,  but  mules  can't  save  us. 
It's  for  us  to  hole  up  where  we  can  git  water. 
Load  yer  rifle  an'  be  ready  to  drag  in  th'  buf'ler 
meat  when  I  find  a  good  place." 

Baker  scurried  into  the  rocks  near  the  river 
and  found  an  overhanging  cliff  with  a  small 
alcove  at  its  base.  There  they  dragged  the  cow 
and  collected  dry  buffalo  chips  for  fuel.  If 
closely  besieged  it  would  be  impossible.  Lander 
believed,  to  cover  the  short  distance  to  the  river 


i66        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

without  challenging  death,  but  Baker  smiled 
grimly  and  said  he  would  guarantee  a  full  supply 
of  water. 

"What  we  want  to  do  first  is  to  make  a  fire  an' 
cook  up  all  the  meat  we  can.  Some  of  it  we'll 
jerk.  Meat  cured  in  th'  sun  will  keep  a  good 
spell." 

As  he  finished  speaking  he  grabbed  Lander, 
who  was  bending  over  the  cow,  and  violently 
hurled  him  backward.  As  he  did  so  a  dozen  war 
arrows  stuck  into  the  carcass. 

"Th'  derned  cusses  have  come!"  grunted 
Baker,  dropping  behind  a  boulder  and  nursing 
his  rifle. 


Chapter  VII 

BLACKFOOT  AND  CROW 

WnpHEY'RE  shootin'  from  up  thar,"  said 
*  Baker  pointing  to  the  top  of  the  opposite 
cliff.  "Them  are  Siksika  arrers,  worst  tribe  o' 
th*  Blackfeet.  They're  worse  'n  th'  Bloods,  an' 
th'  Bloods  is  worse'n  th'  Piegans,  an'  th'  three 
tribes  o'  th'  Blackfeet  is  worse'n  Sioux  or  Aricaras 
in  fightin'  th'  whites." 

Then  with  awe  in  his  voice  he  informed: 
"Each  tribe  has  medicine  bundles  what's  most 
amazin'  strong.  They  worship  Napi,  th'  Old 
Man,  an'  he  suttingly  has  took  mighty  good  care 
of  *em  so  far.  They're  allers  ag'in'  us  Americans, 
but  they'll  take  their  trade  to  H.  B.  posts  fast 
'nough.  There  ain't  a  fur  company  west  o'  th' 
Mississipp'  that  ain't  tried  to  make  peace  with  'em 
an'  git  a  chance  at  their  furs.  Bridger  'n'  me  have 
tried  to  ketch  one  o'  th'  devils  alive  to  hold  him 
an'  tame  him  so's  we  could  have  some  one  to  take 
167 


i68        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

a  talk  back  to  th'  tribe.  Lawdy  massy,  but  there's 
rich  pickin'  for  th'  trader  what  gits  in.  Reckon 
McKenzie  o'  Fort  Union  will  be  th'  first.  He's 
got  a  white  hunter  what  speaks  their  lingo.  WeVe 
tried  to  git  at  'em  through  some  o'  their  neigh- 
bors, but  they  are  allers  fightin'  th'  Sioux,  Cree, 
Assiniboins,  Flatheads  an'  th'  Snakes.  I'd  give 
a  season's  profits  if  I  had  one  o'  their  medicine 
bundles."  Then  hastily,  as  if  apologizing,  "Not 
that  my  medicine  ain't  strong  'nough,  but  some- 
times ye  can  git  a  new  medicine  that'll  work  for 
ye  when  yer  old  medicine  gits  tired." 

"They  seem  to  be  very  quiet.  Perhaps  they 
are  gone,"  suggested  Lander. 

"Ye  make  me  feel  like  I  did  afore  I  ever  come 
to  th'  mountains,"  said  Baker  with  a  grim  smile. 
"Folks  back  East  allers  use  to  be  tellin'  'bout  th' 
noble  Injun!  Gone  away  when  they've  got  a  fine 
chance  to  cut  white  throats?  Sho!  I'm  plumb 
'shamed  of  ye.  I've  lived  among  Injuns  an'  like 
some  tribes.  I  know  some  I'd  trust  quicker'n  I 
would  most  whites.  Their  medicines  is  powerful 
strong.  Anybody  oughter  know  that.  But  after 
all's  said  they  are  the  most  onsartain  varmints  in 
th'  world.  They  ain't  only  half  human.  Younker, 
did  ye  ever  see  a  human  that  ye'd  fed  an'  treated 


BLACKFOOT  AND  CROW         169 

• 
to  th'  best  fixin's  in  yer  lodge  who'd  steal  yer 
hosses  when  he  come  to  go  away?  Wal,  that's 
th'  Injun's  notion  o'  sayin',  'Much  obleeged.'  My 
idee  is  never  to  give  'em  any  gifts.  Jest  ask  th' 
whole  b'ilin'  to  a  big  feast  an'  raise  half  their 
ha'r.  T'other  half'll  be  mighty  sharp  set  to  keep 
peaceful  for  a  while." 

*T  believe  they've  gone  away,"  insisted  Lander, 
who  was  in  no  mood  to  listen  to  Baker's  eccentric 
observations. 

"Some  trick/'  mumbled  Baker  thoughtfully. 
"S'pose  ye  jest  keep  yer  eyes  to  th'  front  while  I 
look  at  my  medicine." 

With  great  contempt  for  Baker's  superstitions 
Lander  stared  toward  the  river,  seeing  no  sign  of 
the  enemy  except  the  fringe  of  arrows  sticking 
in  the  carcass  of  the  buffalo.  Baker  faced  toward 
the  cHff  behind  him,  produced  his  medicine  bag, 
cautiously  opened  and  closed  it  four  times,  and 
muttered : 

"That  oughter  crack  hell  open  'bout  a  mile  if 
it  ain't  lost  its  old  kick.  That  last  sculp,  even  if 
I  didn't  kill  it,  oughter  give  any  honest  medicine 
a  heap  o'  guts.  I'll  b'ile  some  berries  an'  make 
it  a  real  feast  first  chance  I  git." 

Lander  by  this  time  had  discovered  he  was  very 


I70        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

thirsty.  And  as  Baker  was  absorbed  with  his 
heathenish  rites,  the  river  but  a  few  yards  away 
and  no  enemy  in  sight  it  seemed  a  simple  matter 
to  advance  and  fill  a  hat  with  water.  Baker 
restored  the  medicine  bag  to  the  bosom  of  his 
hunting  shirt  and  turned  in  time  to  behold  Lan- 
der start  for  the  river  with  a  Blackfoot  warrior 
dropping  from  the  heavens  to  alight  within  a  few 
feet  of  him.  The  long  rawhide  rope,  dangling 
from  the  edge  of  the  cliff,  was  immediately  util- 
ized by  a  second  warrior. 

"Trouble  woke  up !"  yelled  Baker,  snatching  up 
his  rifle  and  shooting  the  warrior  from  the  rope. 

Clubbing  his  weapon  he  sprang  to  assist  Lan- 
der, who  by  this  time  had  drawn  his  knife  from 
his  boot.  The  Indian,  although  realizing  he  was 
lost  unless  instantly  reinforced,  leaped  at  Lander 
and  attempted  to  run  him  through  with  a  long 
butcher-knife. 

"Load  your  rifle!  I'll  take  care  of  this  one," 
called  out  Lander,  parrying  the  thrust. 

Baker  reversed  his  gun  and  proceeded  to  reload 
it,  his  eyes  staring  admiringly  at  the  young  man's 
unexpected  display  of  talent. 

"Rip  him,  boy!"  he  shouted.  "Lawdy  massy! 
But  that  medicine  o'  mine  is  shore  kickin'  an'  a 


BLACKFOOT  AND  CROW         171 

rarin' !  Fetched  'em  right  outer  th'  sky/'  Then 
anxiously:  "But  some  things  can  be  overdone. 
No  medicine  oughter  fetch  in  more  trouble  than 
a  man  can  dish  away." 

He  glanced  apprehensively  at  the  swinging 
rope,  then  back  to  the  duelists  circling  about  each 
other. 

*'Keep  away.  Baker!  This  is  my  game.  Watch 
the  rope !  They  crossed  over  from  the  other  side. 
That's  why  they  were  still  so  long." 

*^Git  after  him,"  Baker  anxiously  urged.  "He 
must  have  a  good  medicine,  or  he'd  never  come 
down  here — Godfrey!    Look  out!" 

The  warrior  suddenly  shifted  his  tactics  and 
with  a  series  of  lightning-like  thrusts  took  the 
offensive.  Baker  cocked  his  rifle  but  dared  not 
fire  at  the  dodging  figures.  He  called  on  Lander 
to  look  out,  to  leap  to  one  side;  and  then  came 
the  miracle.  The  warrior's  knife  leaped  from 
his  hand  and  described  a  glittering  arc  that  ended 
in  the  racing  river,  and  he  went  down  with  a 
gush  of  blood  from  his  throat.  Lander,  weak 
with  excitement  and  his  exertions,  stood  trem- 
bling and  staring  at  his  work. 

Baker  caught  him  by  the  arm  and  drew  him  in 
under  the  cliff,  loudly  bawling: 


172        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"I'll  trade  ye  a  dozen  packs  o'  prime  beaver  for 
yer  medicine!" 

A  howl  of  rage  came  from  the  top  of  the  cliff, 
while  futile  arrows  rattled  about  the  opening  of 
the  alcove.  But  there  was  no  further  attempt  to 
descend  the  rope. 

"Of  course  it  was  my  medicine  what  fetched 
'em  down,"  declared  Baker,  fearful  lest  his  praise 
of  Lander's  medicine  might  incite  jealousy. 
"When  I  open  that  bag  four  times  an'  p'int  it 
towards  a  Injun  he's  pretty  nigh  bein'  my  meat. 
Wish  I  could  git  out  there  an'  sculp  'em !" 

"That  can  wait,"  snarled  Lander,  overwrought 
by  his  experience  and  his  disgust  at  a  practise 
commonplace  among  mountain  men.  "They  must 
be  coming  in  a  bunch.    Hear  them  yelling?" 

"It's  a  small  band  or  they'd  been  here  afore 
this/'  growled  Baker,  wrinkling  his  brows. 
"Reckon  they're  in  more  trouble.  My  medicine 
has  sot  a  trap  for  'em.  Reckon  Badger's  come 
up.    No,  there  ain't  no  sounds  o'  guns." 

The  clamor  on  top  of  the  cliff  now  receded 
although  still  audible.  Baker  pricked  his  ears 
and  from  the  ferocious  chorus  began  to  deduce 
the  truth. 

"Crows   jumped   'em!"   he    suddenly  roared, 


"Keep  away,  Baker!    This  is  my  game." 


BLACKFOOT  AND  CROW         173 

darting  from  under  the  cliff  and  pausing-  to  tear 
off  the  two  scalps.  *'Come  on!  They're  ridin' 
down  th'  south  side  o'  th'  cliff  to  the  plain." 

Securing  his  gun  Lander  raced  after  him. 
They  rounded  the  end  of  the  cliff  and  came  out 
into  the  broken  country.  The  river  side  of  the 
cliff  was  less  than  a  hundred  feet  high,  and 
already  the  Blackfeet  had  withdrawn  from  it  and 
were  retiring  in  a  compact  body  and  repulsing 
the  attacks  of  a  much  larger  body  of  Indians. 

'T  know'd  they  was  Crows  by  their  yells.  See 
what  large  bows  they  use.  Make  'em  stout  with 
elk  or  bighorn  an'  rattlesnake  skins.  There's 
mighty  good  medicine  in  a  snake  skin  if  ye  know 
th'  right  songs  an'  can  git  on  th'  good  side  of 
it.    But  if  ye  fail  it'll  turn  on  ye  like  a  rattler." 

**What  shall  we  do?  Go  help  the  Crows  or 
take  our  mules  and  ride  for  it  ?" 

"Stick  along  here.  Crows  won't  hurt  us. 
They'll  take  yer  mule  an'  mine  if  they  find  it. 
If  we  should  run  away  they'd  take  both  guns. 
Most  amazin'  thieves." 

The  two  watched  the  haughty  Blackfeet  skil- 
fully continue  their  retreat.  Two  of  their  war- 
riors fell  before  the  murderous  arrow  fire,  but 
were  almost  immediately  scooped  up  and  thrown 


174        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

across  their  ponies.  The  Crows,  superb  horse- 
men, rushed  them  from  all  sides,  riding  low  like 
Comanches  with  only  the  tip  of  a  moccasin  show- 
ing. But  although  outnumbering  their  heredi- 
tary enemies,  the  Crows  accomplished  nothing 
more  than  to  slay  or  severely  wound  three  men 
and  to  drive  them  all  away  from  the  river. 

Baker  returned  to  the  river  and  built  a  fire. 
He  began  cooking  buffalo  meat  and  urged  Lan- 
der to  eat.  "They'll  gobble  down  everything 
when  they  git  here,"  he  warned. 

Lander  was  not  hungry.  The  spectacle  of  the 
two  dead  warriors  sickened  him. 

A  rumbling  clatter  of  hoofs  and  much  demo- 
niac yelling  and  the  white  men  were  surrounded 
by  the  Crows.  The  first  to  arrive  leaped  to  the 
ground  and  began  feasting  on  the  buffalo.  The 
leader,  a  weathered  wisp  of  a  man,  whose  hair 
and  skin  looked  dead  but  whose  eyes  were  two 
fires,  walked  up  to  Lander  and  yanked  the  rifle 
from  his  hand.     Lander  reached  to  his  boot. 

"Keep  away  from  that  knife!"  snarled  Baker. 
"Jest  smile." 

The  leader  wheeled  on  Baker  and  reached  out 
to  appropriate  his  rifle.  The  mountain  man 
laughed  in  his  face  and  taunted: 


BLACKFOOT  AND  CROW         175 

"Black  Arrow  can  not  take  scalps,  so  he  must 
take  his  friend's  rifle." 

The  Indian  drew  back,  then  recognized  Baker 
and  sullenljr  thrust  out  his  hand  in  greeting  and 
said: 

"My  young  men  need  guns.  But  you  are  our 
friend.  We  will  take  only  one  gun.  That  shall 
pay  for  saving  your  lives." 

At  this  Baker  became  all  Indian.  He  slapped 
his  breast  haughtily  and  in  the  tongue  of  the 
Absaroke  said : 

"Chief  of  the  Sparrowhawk  people,  look  up 
the  river  bank.  You  will  find  two  dead  Blackfoot 
dogs  there.  Here  are  their  scalps.  Why  does 
Black  Arrow  come  riding  in  like  a  foolish  Indian 
raising  the  buffalo  and  scaring  his  white  friend's 
game  away  ?  Black  Arrow  has  spoiled  our  hunt- 
ing just  as  the  killing  was  beginning.  Why  did 
he  not  keep  away  till  we  had  killed  more  Black- 
feet  ?    Shall  we  give  him  a  gun  for  that  ?" 

The  dead  Blackfeet  and  their  scalps  now 
flaunted  in  the  chiefs  face  carried  pardon  for  the 
trapper's  insolence.  The  Absaroke,  or  Crows, 
could  forgive  much  in  a  man  who  had  killed  two 
of  their  terrible  foes.  There  was  a  rush  to  exam- 
ine the  slain  warriors,  and  when  it  was  found  that 


176        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

one  was  killed  by  a  knife,  although  the  two  loaded 
rifles  had  not  made  that  necessary,  the  chief 
reflected  the  respectful  attitude  of  his  followers 
when  he  asked : 

"Why  use  the  knife  when  you  had  guns?'' 

"Why  waste  lead  on  those  dogs?"  countered 
Baker.  "We  need  our  rifles  for  game,  not  for 
killing  Blackfeet.  My  young  brother  is  mighty 
knife-fighter."  Then  in  English.  "Where  d'ye 
I'arn  th'  knife,  younker?" 

"Papa  Clair." 

"Loaded  an'  primed!"  Then  in  Absaroke: 
"There  is  no  warrior  in  your  band  who  can  touch 
him  with  a  knife  without  losing  blood.  He  is  big 
medicine.  Stand  your  best  man  before  him.  If 
he  brings  blood  without  losing  blood  you  shall 
keep  the  rifle.  If  my  young  brother's  medicine  is 
the  stronger  you  shall  not  take  the  rifle." 

To  Lander  and  scarcely  able  to  conceal  his 
anxiety  he  said :  "I've  told  'em  they  ain't  got  a 
man  that  can  tech  ye  with  a  knife  without  bein' 
blooded.  If  Papa  Clair  I'arned  ye  th'  knife  ye 
oughter  be  prime.    Have  I  spoke  too  strong?" 

"I  don't  think  so,"  Lander  modestly  replied. 
"Papa  Clair  said  I  knew  all  he  knew." 

"Glory  be!     Don't  kill.     Jest  prove  ye're  best 


BLACKFOOT  AND  CROW  177 

man."  To  the  chief :  "Got  any  braves  who  believe 
in  their  medicine?" 

Black  Arrow  scowled  at  the  insolence  of  the 
challenge  and  yelled  to  his  men.  One  of  them, 
wearing  much  red  cloth  as  a  fringe  for  his  leg- 
gings, leaped  from  his  pony  and  pulling  his  knife 
ran  toward  Lander.  With  a  most  savage  expres- 
sion on  his  haughty  face  he  held  the  knife  upright 
before  his  eyes,  then  lowered  it  and  contemptu- 
ously addressed  Lander : 

"He  says  he'll  cut  th'  sacred  totem  o'  th'  Crows 
(the  Swastika  cross)  on  yer  face,  then  cut  yer 
throat.     How's  yer  medicine?" 

"I  don't  know,"  muttered  Lander,  inwardly 
flinching  before  the  warrior's  ferocious  bearing. 
"But  I  know  what  Papa  Clair  has  told  me." 

"Then  ye  know  'nough  to  give  him  his  needin's 
with  one  hand  tied  to  yer  foot.  He's  waitin'. 
Git  after  him  an'  when  they  ain't  looking'  I'll 
open  my  medicine  bag  at  him.  If  our  two  medi- 
cines can't  fetch  him  nothin'  short  o'  th'  devil 
can." 

Lander  had  no  heart  for  the  business.  He 
resented  Baker's  forcing  him  into  the  trial.  He 
had  fought  and  killed  one  Indian  to  save  his  life. 
But  this  contest,  merely  to  prove  his  superiority, 


178        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

was  not  to  his  taste.  However^  the  brave  was 
growing  impatient  and  sneering  openly  as  he 
beHeved  he  read  the  other's  hesitancy.  With  a 
flash  of  his  hand  Lander  drew  Papa  Clair's  gift 
knife  and  stood  on  guard. 

The  Indians  exclaimed  in  admiration  as  they 
beheld  the  weapon.  The  haft  was  embellished 
with  much  silver  of  Spanish  workmanship  and 
there  was  a  fretwork  of  the  white  metal  on  the 
upper  half  of  the  big  blade. 

Lander's  opponent  endeavored  to  rush  in  and 
bewilder  his  man  with  repeated  onslaughts.  His 
point  streaked  back  and  forth,  all  but  ripping  the 
skin  above  the  eyes.  For  a  minute  Lander 
worked  only  on  the  defensive.  Then  anger  grew 
up  in  his  heart  and  calmed  his  nerves  and  he 
stopped  giving  ground  and  began  advancing. 
Each  forward  step  was  taken  with  a  precision  that 
suddenly  stilled  the  chorus  of  jeers.  And  as  he 
advanced  he  formed  his  purpose  and  drove  his 
man  toward  the  river.  His  blade  parried  and 
menaced  but  refrained  from  touching  the  painted 
breast,  although  it  was  obvious  to  the  spectators 
it  could  have  been  fleshed  to  the  hilt  several 
times. 

The  Indian  suspected  he  was  being  played  with 


BLACKFOOT  AND  CROW         179 

and  sought  to  keep  clear  of  the  river,  but  each 
attempt  to  work  one  side  resulted  in  a  vicious 
slash  of  the  glittering  steel  that  fenced  him  in. 
The  cries  of  his  friends  now  told  the  warrior  he 
was  on  the  brink  of  the  bank  and  he  made  a  last 
desperate  rally  and  flung  himself  forward  reck- 
lessly. Instantly  the  stabbing  knife  was  pushed 
to  one  side  and  lifting  his  hand  Lander  struck 
heavily  with  the  haft,  the  blow  falling  full  between 
the  scowling  eyes  and  knocking  the  man  into  the 
icy  current.  Lander  had  had  his  man  at  his 
mercy  and  had  vanquished  him  without  losing  or 
drawing  a  drop  of  blood. 

"He  has  big  knife  medicine,"  reluctantly 
admitted  Black  Arrow.  Then  to  Lander  he  spoke 
rapidly.    Baker  interpreted : 

"He  says  if  ye  will  come  to  live  with  him  in 
th'  valley  o  'th*  Big  Horn  he'll  give  ye  a  big  lodge 
an'  his  darter  for  a  wife.  Th'  Crows  is  allers 
fond  o'  havin'  white  men  live  with  'em.  He  says 
he'll  let  ye  handle  th'  Crow  trade  in  buf'ler  robes 
an'  bighorn  leather.  Th'  robes  is  mighty  fine  an' 
it's  a  chance  to  trade  for  a  mighty  fine  profit 
that  most  old  mountain  men  would  jump  at.  If 
I  wa'n't  tied  up  with  th'  Snakes  I'd  jump  at  it 
myself." 


i8o        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"Tell  him  I  am  with  Jim  Bridger,  that  I  want 
him  to  bring  the  Crow  trade  to  Bridger  on  Green 
River." 

"Jim  Bridger  won*t  hold  ye  to  yer  bargain 
when  he  knows  ye  can  better  yerself.  Crow 
women  are  mighty  likely-lookin'  women." 

"Tell  him  what  I  say.  Sometimes  I'll  visit  him 
and  teach  his  young  men  how  to  handle  the 
knife." 

Baker  choked  back  a  laugh  and  muttered : 

"Lawdy  massy!  First  trip  out  here  an'  ye're 
puttin'  on  more  airs  then  Kit  Carson  or  Jim 
Bridger  hisself."     Then  gravely: 

"But  that's  th'  way  to  hoot  when  yer  medicine 
is  good  an'  strong.  Makes  yer  medicine  feel  proud 
an'  keen  to  w^ork  for  ye,  too.  I'll  tell  him  what 
ye  say.  Don't  do  any  hurt  to  make  a  friend  o' 
him  an'  git  first  whack  at  his  trade.  They've  been 
carryin'  th'  most  of  it  to  Fort  Union." 

Black  Arrow  was  disappointed  at  Lander's 
refusal  to  join  his  tribe,  but  readily  promised  to 
take  a  good  trade  to  the  Green  River  rendezvous, 
but  vowed  he  would  deliver  it  to  none  but  Lan- 
der. The  warrior  who  had  been  knocked  into  the 
river  now  came  up  to  Lander  with^  as  the  latter 
BSelieved,  hostile  intentions.     There  was  a  knob 


BLACKFOOT  AND  CROW  i8i 

the  size  of  an  egg  between  his  eyes.  Baker  was 
in  time  w^ith  his  warning : 

*Th'  critter  don't  mean  no  harm." 

The  Indian  gestured  for  permission  to  examine 
the  knife  that  had  conquered  him.  It  was  a  beau- 
tiful weapon,  and  the  brave  saved  his  pride  by 
attributing  his  defeat  to  the  medicine  in  it  rather 
than  to  Lander's  skill.  He  gazed  at  it  longingly, 
then  led  up  his  pony  and  offered  to  trade.  Lan- 
der might  have  been  tempted  as  the  animal  was 
far  superior  to  the  average  run  of  horse-flesh 
owned  by  mountain  men,  but  Baker  warned : 

''Don't  swap  yer  medicine.  Ye're  big  guns  with 
'em  now.  I'll  tell  'em  th'  medicine  won't  work 
for  no  one  but  yerself.  Ye're  lucky  if  yer  medi- 
cine ain't  mad  at  ye  for  even  thinkin'  o'  doin' 
sech  a  thing." 

So  Lander  refused,  and  Baker  softened  it  down 
in  interpreting  it,  then  drew  Black  Arrow  to  one 
side  and  talked  with  him  some  minutes.  Coming 
back  to  Lander  he  explained: 

"Chief  says  them  Blackfeet,  'bout  a  hundred 
'n'  fifty  of  'em,  are  jest  back  from  visitin'  their 
friends,  th'  'Rapahos,  an'  on  their  way  to  a  big 
band  now  campin'  in  Jackson's  Hole  near  th' 
Three  Tetons.    Says  th'  big  band  held  up  a  H.  B. 


i82        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

trader  an'  took  a  British  flag  an'  forty  packs  o' 
beaver  from  him.  If  these  Crows  had  put  up  a 
real  fight  they  could  'a*  wiped  out  this  small  band, 
as  there  must  be  more'n  two  hundred  here.  But 
it  was  Injun  style — gallop  lickety-split,  shoot 
arrers  while  t'other  side  run  away,  then  quit  an' 
never  git  down  to  real  business.  Th'  Blackfeet 
will  fetch  their  friends  back  to  chaw  th' 
Crows  up." 

Several  young  bucks  who  had  followed  the 
river  down  now  began  riding  back  and  forth  and 
Waving  their  robes.  Black  Arrow  leaped  on  his 
pony  and  rode  up  a  low  bluff.  The  bucks  had 
signaled  "enemy." 

Lander  mounted  his  mule  and  followed  the 
chief.  Far  in  the  east  was  dust.  Black  Arrow's 
sharp  old  eye  studied  it  for  a  minute;  then  he 
turned  to  Lander  and  drew  his  hand  across  his 
forehead  in  the  sign  for  a  hat,  or  white  men. 
Lander  was  obtuse  and  the  chief  touched  his  hand 
and  then  passed  it  up  and  down  his  arms  and 
body.  Lander  understood  this :  "All  white,"  and 
yelled  down  to  Jim  Baker : 

"Bet  it's  Bridger's  outfit.  Chief  says  they're 
white  men." 

Baker  repeated  this  to  the  Indians  surrounding 


BLACKFOOT  AND  CROW         183 

him,  and  instantly  the  war-Hke  preparations 
ceased.  The  bucks  now  came  tearing  up  the  river 
making  the  sign  of  the  hat.  As  Black  Arrow 
rejoined  his  men  there  was  a  flash  of  action  caused 
by  a  brave  bringing  in  the  mule  Baker  had  con- 
cealed before  surprising  Lander  at  the  river. 
Baker  appropriated  the  animal  without  bothering 
to  explain,  and  the  warrior  pulled  an  ax. 

Lander  drove  his  mule  between  the  two  and 
pulled  his  knife.  Black  Arrow  intervened  in  time 
to  prevent  a  tragedy.  Explanations  followed  and 
peace  was  restored  just  as  the  scouts  came  up  to 
announce  the  supposed  enemy  was  some  thirty 
white  men,  riding  as  fast  as  their  weary  mounts 
could  bring  them. 

Advising  Black  Arrow  to  remain  where  he  was 
and  keep  all  his  men  with  him  Baker  motioned  to 
Dander  and  rode  down  the  river  to  meet  their 
friends.  At  the  head  of  the  band  were  Bridger 
and  Papa  Clair.  Lander,  knowing  the  strength 
of  the  outfit,  saw  that  a  dozen  or  more  men  had 
been  left  behind,  doubtless  to  bring  up  the  pack 
animals. 

"My  young  friend!"  joyfully  called  out  Papa 
Clair,  swinging  up  his  hand.  "We  heard  shots! 
We  feared!    We  rode!" 


i84        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"Howdy,  Jim,"  sang  out  Baker. 

"Howdy,  Jim.  Did  you  find  him,  or  did  he 
find  you?"  asked  Bridger,  nodding  coldly 
toward  Lander. 

"Found  each  other.  Had  a  muss  with  Black- 
feet.  He  shot  one  afore  th'  scrimmage.  Then  I 
got  one  with  my  old  gun,  an'  he  got  another  with 
his  knife.  Big  medicine  in  that  knife  o'  his'n  if 
any  one  asks  ye.  Then  Black  Arrer  with  his 
Crows  come  along  an'  drove  th'  skunks  off.  Now 
th'  old  cuss  is  back  there  waitin'  to  be  told  he's  a 
big  Injun." 

"Lander,  you've  held  up  my  outfit  two  days," 
sternly  informed  Bridger.  "You're  too  much 
trouble  to  suit  me.  I'm  sending  an  express  back 
to  St.  Louis.    Make  ready  to  go  with  it." 

"I  stay  in  the  mountains  if  I  ever  get  into  them, 
Mr.  Bridger.  If  I  can't  work  for  you  perhaps  I 
can  work  for  some  other  outfit.  If  no  one  will 
hire  me  I'll  turn  free  trader." 

"Free  trader?"  scoffed  Bridger.  "You  a 
trader?  Where's  your  outfit?  If  you  had  any^ 
goods  who'd  trade  with  you?    You're  crazy." 

^'M'sieu  Bridger,  but  you  are  speaking  to  my 
young  friend,"  gently  remonstrated  Papa  Clair. 

"You  can't  fix  a  fight  on  me,  Papa,  if  you  try; 


BLACKFOOT  AND  CROW         185 

for  a  year.  Lander's  all  right  but  he's  out  of 
place  up  here.  When  we  stopped  for  two  days 
and  searched  for  him  we  were  giving  the  A.  F.  C. 
that  much  advantage  in  trying  to  make  the  ren- 
dezvous ahead  of  us.    It  won't  do." 

"Ye  got  plenty  o'  time,  Jim,"  drawled  Baker. 
"Then  ag'in  ye  ain't  goin'  to  lose  no  trade  o'  th' 
younker.  He  licked  one  o'  Black  Arrer's  smart- 
est Injuns  in  a  knife  fight  an'  th'  chief  wants 
to  take  him  for  his  son.  Failin'  in  that  he  says 
he'll  fetch  his  trade  to  Green  River  an'  turn  it 
to  th'  younker,  which  means  to  ye.  Hard  to  beat 
them  Crows  for  robes  made  gay  with  porcupine 
quills  an'  fancy  sewin'.  Reckon  he'd  clean  up  all 
th'  Crow  trade  if  he  took  a  outfit  an'  went  an* 
lived  with  'em." 

Papa  Clair's  white  mustaches  went  up  as  he 
smiled  in  keen  enjoyment  Bridger's  face  broke 
into  a  wide  grin  and  he  whimsically  surrendered : 

"Reckon  the  express  can  git  along  without  you, 
Lander.  Only  after  this  either  keep  ahead,  or 
behind,  or  with  us.  Now  we'll  have  a  talk  with 
the  chief.  Come  along,  Baker.  The  rest  of  you 
better  stay  back  here  till  I've  smoked  with  the 
old  cuss." 

The  men  gathered  around  Lander  and  eagerly 


i86         KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

listened  to  his  experience.  That  he  had  killed 
two  Blackfeet  was  enough  to  erase  his  name  from 
the  roll  of  greenhorns,  and  even  Porker  treated 
him  civilly.  Long  Simons  acted  most  peculiar 
however.  He  kept  in  the  background,  yet  con- 
spicuous because  of  his  red  belt,  and  alternated 
between  deep  chuckles  and  heavy  frowns.  Lan- 
der liked  him,  and  leaving  his  mule  went  to  him, 
remarking : 

*'You  don't  seem  very  glad  to  see  me  back." 

"Been  trailin'  ye  ever  since  ye  failed  to  turn 
up  on  th'  second  night.  Jest  now  IVe  got  some 
trouble  an'  some  fun  of  my  own  on  my  hands. 
Stick  round  an'  ye'll  see  what  I  mean." 

"Here  come  the  two  Jims,"  answered  Papa 
Clair. 

"Everything  is  all  right,  men,"  called  out 
Bridger.  "We'll  camp  beyond  the  Crows.  No 
quarreling,  remember.  They'll  treat  us  right  if 
we  treat  them  right.    What  now,  Baker?" 

The  last  as  Baker  gave  a  snort  of  anger  and 
slid  from  his  mule,  threw  aside  his  rifle  and  dis- 
carded his  belt.  Lander  was  amazed  to  behold 
Long  Simons  removing  his  red  belt  and  weapons 
and  throwing  them  on  the  ground,  his  broad  face 
grinning  sheepishly. 


BLACKFOOT  AND  CROW  187 

"Holy  blue!  Are  they  crazy?"  gasped  Papa 
Clair. 

"What's  the  matter,  Jim?"  demanded  Bridger, 
his  gray  eyes  twinkling. 

"Jest  a  sort  of  a  childish  game.  This  lank, 
long  perrarie  dog  let  on  at  th'  last  rendezvous 
that  my  fightin'  with  grizzlies,  when  I  killed  two 
with  my  knife,  was  all  a  bundle  o'  lies.  I  swore 
I'd  make  him  eat  his  words  if  he  ever  dared  come 
back  to  th'  mountains.    An'  I'm  goin'  to  do  it." 

"Talk  is  cheap,"  sneered  Long  Simons.  "Ye've 
kicked  half-starved  Injuns  round  so  long  that  ye 
forgit  white  men  don't  crawl  when  ye  bleat. 
Come  along.  I'll  show  ye  one  grizzly  ye  can't 
lick.  Afore  I'm  done  with  ye,  ye'll  be  tellin'  th' 
boys  th'  truth.  What  ye  killed  with  a  knife  was 
only  two  sick  wolves." 

"No  biting  or  gouging,"  commanded  Bridger. 
"This  is  no  time  for  fun.  After  this  all  hoss- 
play  must  be  finished  at  St.  Charles." 

"He  won't  have  nothin'  more  to  settle  after  I 
git  through  with  him,"  declared  Long  Simons  as 
he  stripped  off  his  shirt.  "His  troubles  is  about 
to  be  ended  Come  to  these  arms,  ye  leetle 
grizzly  tamer." 

With  a  roar  of  anger  Baker  jumped  into  him. 


i88        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

The  battles  Uander  had  witnessed  at  St.  Charles 
were  tame  affairs  compared  with  this.  With 
hoots  of  joy  the  mountain  men  formed  a  wide 
ring.  Some  of  the  Indians  galloped  up  and  to 
them  Bridger  explained  that  two  of  his  men  were 
playing  a  game.  The  two  combatants  discarded 
all  finesse  and  came  together  with  the  intention 
of  sticking  until  only  one  was  able  to  stand. 

Lander  held  his  breath  at  the  terrific  punish- 
ment each  inflicted  and  received.  It  seemed 
impossible  that  the  human  frame  could  survive 
such  assaults.  Baker  was  an  inch  shorter  than 
Simons  and  quite  a  few  pounds  lighter.  But  his 
technique  was  that  of  a  panther,  a  tremendous 
driving  power  that  allowed  his  antagonist  no 
breathing  spell;  an  implacable  hurricane  that 
would  rage  until  there  was  nothing  left  to  assail. 
Long  Simons  physically  was  far  above  the  aver- 
age caliber  of  man^  and  grunted  with  joy  in 
finding  a  full  fight  was  brought  to  him. 

From  the  moment  they  clashed  it  was  almost 
impossible  to  distinguish  them.  They  became  a 
revolving  mass,  two  dynamos  that  whirled  over 
on  the  ground  like  a  fly-wheel.  When  they  came 
erect  it  was  only  to  fall  again. 

There  was  no  waiting^  no  cautious  testing  of 


BLACKFOOT  AND  CROW  189 

the  other's  strength.  Each  was  confident  of  his 
own  might,  and  sought  to  terminate  the  contest 
as  speedily  as  possible.  There  was  no  defensive 
against  offensive.  It  was  offensive  against  offen- 
sive, two  separate  plants  confidently  conceived 
and  meeting  in  furious  collision. 

"Jeer-ru-sa-leem !"  screamed  Rummy  as  some 
invisible  force  seemed  to  hurl  the  two  apart  and 
then  bring  them  smashing  together.  The  Indians, 
now  generally  attracted,  watched  with  glittering 
eyes  and  low  grunts  of  amazement. 

Inside  of  five  minutes  of  incessant,  whirlwind 
tactics  both  were  practically  stripped  to  the  buff. 
Suddenly  Long  Simons'  arm  slipped  under 
Baker's  arm  and  up  over  the  shoulder  with  the 
broad  palm  smothering*  the  face  and  pressing 
backward. 

"Give  in,  ye  babby  bear  fighter!"  gasped 
Simons. 

Lander  realized  that  with  a  bit  more  pressure 
Baker's  neck  would  break  should  he  refuse  to 
release  the  pressure  of  his  own  left  arm.  Back 
rocked  his  head,  his  wind  shut  off  by  the  hand 
plastered  over  mouth  a.nd  nose.  Then  his  two 
fists  came  together  on  Simons'  throat,  each  travel- 
ing only  a  few  inches.    The  big  fellow  relaxed  his 


I90        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

terrible  hold,  tottered  and  fell  with  blood  stream- 
ing from  his  mouth  and  nose. 

He  groaned  and  rolled  over  on  his  back,  glared 
up  into  Baker's  wild  face  and  tried  to  get  back 
on  his  feet. 

*'Was  them  babby  b*ars?"  faintly  asked  Baker, 
his  bloody  knuckles  drawn  back  for  a  final  blow. 

Long  Simons  wet  his  hot  lips  and  pumped  for 
air.  His  voice  sounded  ridiculously  small  for  so 
large  a  man  as  he  weakly  replied : 

"Reg'lar  full  grown  'uns,  Jim.  Extry  big  'uns. 
Belt's  on  th'  ground  some'ers." 


Chapter  VIII 

along  the  river  trail 

TTJRIDGER  now  made  every  effort  to  reach  the 
*^  rendezvous  on  Green  River  ahead  of  the 
A.  F.  C.  outfit.  He  hurried  his  company  by  Inde- 
pendence Rock,  through  the  Devil's  Gate,  then  up 
the  Sweetwater  for  six  days  to  the  divide. 
Although  it  was  uncomfortably  warm  on  the 
plains  the  water  in  the  camp-kettles  was  coated 
with  a  quarter  of  an  inch  of  ice  the  night  they 
camped  on  the  divide. 

Five  days  later  they  arrived  at  the  Green — 
named  Rio  Verde  by  the  Spanish  explorers  in 
1818,  and  known  as  the  Siskadee,  or  Prairie  Hen, 
by  the  Crows.  Camp  was  pitched  a  few  miles 
from  Horse  Creek,  and  on  the  first  day  was 
invaded  by  several  hundred  Nez  Perces  and  Flat- 
heads — who  never  flattened  the  head — and  fully 
three  hundred  traders  and  trappers.  Many  of 
the  trappers  were  Bridger's  men  who  had  win- 

191 


192        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

tere'd  in  the  mountains.  The  others  belonged  to 
Nathaniel  J.  Wyeth's  New  England  outfit,  or 
were  free  trappers  with  small  outfits. 

A'  small  tent  was  speedily  erected  for  a  saloon 
and  Lander  was  appointed  to  handle  the  liquor 
trade,  both  whites  and  Indians  being  furious  for 
^drink.  Lander  was  kept  busy  as  long  as  he  could 
stand  on  his  feet,  peddling  out  whisky  at  five  dol- 
lars a  pint.    Then  Papa  Clair  took  his  place. 

There  ensued  the  usual  amount  of  fighting  and 
gambling.  Beaver  pelts  were  the  only  medium 
of  exchange,  and  as  these  were  dumped  on  the 
buffalo  robes  of  the  gamblers,  small  fortunes 
quickly  changed  hands.  Jim  Baker,  overfond  of 
drink,  set  the  pace  for  three  days.  Then  Bridger 
went  to  him  and  suggested : 

"  'Bout  enough  for  this  time,  eh,  Jim  ?" 

"I'm  a  derned  fool.  Lemme  snooze  an'  I'll 
wake  up  sober's  a  b'iled  owl." 

He  was  as  good  as  his  word  and  reported  for 
active  duty.  He  was  desirous  of  getting  clear  of 
the  camp  and  Bridger  sent  him  to  raise  a  cache 
of  beaver  near  the  mouth  of  Horse  Creek. 

The  big  spree  ended  and  the  wounds  were 
dressed.  The  trappers  began  buying  their  out- 
fits of  blankets,  red  shirts,  tobacco  and  trade  trin- 


ALONG  THE  RIVER  TRAIL       193 

kets.  At  the  end  of  seven  days  Baker  and  his 
party  returned  with  eight  packs  of  beaver,  run- 
ning a  hundred  pounds  to  the  pack  and  worth 
about  ten  dollars  a  pound  in  St.  Louis. 

Baker  announced  having  SQQn  Indian  signs, 
several  smokes,  and  said  a  large  number  of  Black- 
feet  were  watching  the  rendezvous  through  spies 
and  were  discouraged  from  attacking  only 
because  of  the  large  number  of  reds  and  whites. 

Lander,  not  given  to  drink,  made  an  ideal 
whisky  clerk  from  a  trader's  point  of  view.  He 
found  the  work  too  repulsive  and  asked  Bridger 
to  give  him  other  employment. 

"Some  one  had  to  do  it,"  said  Bridger.  "If  s 
about  all  you  can  do.  If  no  trader  did  it  we 
could  git  beaver  without  it.  But  so  long  as  one 
does  it  all  must  do  it  or  make  no  trade.  However 
I'll  find  something  else  for  you." 

If  Bridger  was  inclined  to  resent  Lander's  fas- 
tidiousness he  quickly  changed  when  Black 
Arrow  and  a  hundred  braves  rode  into  camp  and 
announced  that  they  had  robes  to  trade,  but 
would  do  business  with  no  one  but  the  Medicine 
Knife.  Lander,  under  Bridger's  tutelage,  quickly 
traded  the  robes.  Lander  enjoyed  this  experi- 
ence much  as  no  liquor  figured  in  the  deal. 


194        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

The  Crows,  like  the  Comanches  far  south,  did 
not  drink  at  this  time,  having  yet  to  learn  the 
vice  through  associating  v^ith  the  Assiniboins. 
Exchanging  their  robes  only  for  goods,  they  were 
always  well-dressed  after  the  Indian  fashion, 
wealthy  in  horses  and  quite  the  plutocrats  of  the 
Missouri  Valley  Indians. 

While  not  the  best  examples  of  robe  making  the 
Crow  robes  were  beautiful  in  workmanship,  while 
as  for  the  quantity  the  nation  was  the  best  pro- 
ducer of  all  the  plains  tribes.  Bridger  did  not 
intend  to  transport  the  robes  to  St.  Louis  if  he 
could  possibly  help  it,  and  yet  he  planned  to  turn 
the  trade  to  a  good  account. 

After  the  robes  were  traded  the  Indians 
received  many  flattering  offers  for  some  of  their 
horses.  They  refused  to  part  with  any  of  their 
animals  with  the  exception  of  Black  Arrow's 
offer  of  two  ponies  for  Lander's  knife.  Lander 
refused  and  Bridger  told  him  he  was  foolish. 

Papa  Clair  gravely  protested : 

"Non,  non,  M'sieu  Bridger.  If  only  a  piece  of 
sharp  steel — ^yes.  But  it  is  more  than  a  knife.  It 
is  one  of  a  family  of  five  knives.  It  makes  the 
heart  stout ;  it  brings  good  fortune." 

"It's  blame  good  medicine.  I'll  give  my  rifle  for 


ALONG  THE  RIVER  TRAIL        195 

it  an'  stand  th'  chance  o'  my  medicine  gettin*  mad 
at  it,"  spoke  up  Jim  Baker. 

Although  much  less  superstitious  than  Baker 
there  was  the  Indian's  belief  in  medicine  in  Brid- 
ger,  and  he  gravely  offered  Lander  a  hundred 
dollars  gold  for  the  weapon. 

"It  loses  its  medicine  if  it's  sold,"  Lander 
explained. 

Papa  Clair  heard  these  offers  with  much  un- 
easy tugging  at  his  mustaches.  After  the  Indians 
had  withdrawn  he  said : 

*^M'sieu  Bridger,  M'sieu  Baker,  you  are  my  old 
friends.  Now  behold — I  have  four  knives,  all  of 
the  same  family.  I  can  not  give  a  pointed  weapon 
away.  I  can  not  sell  it,  as  that  kills  its  soul.  But 
see !  I  will  let  each  of  you  have  one  of  the  knives. 
Yes,  I  will  do  that.  Whenever  I  want  them 
back;  if  you  have  not  lost  them,  I  will  ask  and 
they  become  mine. 

"They  are  very  jealous.  You  must  carry  no 
other  knife  in  the  same  belt.  Best  to  wear  them 
in  the  boot.    And  they  are  still  mine." 

"Demed  if  ye  ain't  all  right!"  joyously  cried 
Baker.  "My  medicine  didn't  oughter  rip  and 
tear  s'long  as  it's  only  lent  to  me.  If  ye  ever  want 
any  ha'r  raised  jest  call  on  Jim  Baker." 


196        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

Bridger,  less  demonstrative,  caught  the  old 
Juan's  hand  and  shook  it  warmly.  It  surprised 
Lander  to  see  two  such  stout  fighting  men  willing 
to  attribute  fetish  powers  to  a  piece  of  steel.  He 
understood  Papa  Clair's  sentiment  concerning  his 
knives  and  he  catered  to  it.  But  here  were  two 
veteran  mountain  men  eager  to  pay  a  rare  price 
for  what  after  all  was  a  well-sharpened  knife 
ornamented  with  silver. 

Bridger  interrupted  his  meditations  by  abruptly 
offering  him  four  hundred  dollars  a  year  if  he 
would  return  with  the  Crows  to  their  home  in  the 
Big  Horn  Valley  and  live  with  them  during  the 
winter  and  collect  their  trade  for  the  Rocky 
Mountain  Fur  Company. 

"They  like  you.  They  reckon  you're  big  medi- 
cine.   Your  knife  has  brought  you  good  luck." 

Lander  hesitated  and  Bridger  urged : 

"You  can't  go  back  to  St.  Louis.  You've  got 
to  winter  out  here  somewheres.  They'll  treat 
you  mighty  fine,  and  you'll  have  a  chance  to 
prove  that  Jim  Bridger  didn't  tell  no  lies  when  he 
talked  about  the  Yellowstone  country." 

"If  you  go  then  I  shall  go  with  you,  my 
friend,"  added  Papa  Clair.  "Caves  of  war-paint ! 
Name  of  a  pipe!" 


ALONG  THE  RIVER  TRAII]        197 

And  his  eyes  glittered  at  the  tKought  of  new 
adventures  in  the  marvelous  countr^^;  Bridger  had 
so  often  described. 

Lander  wanted  above  all  things  to  return  to  St. 
Louis  in  the  fall.  To  go  until  another  summer 
without  seeing  Susette  was  sickening  to  contem- 
plate. Yet  a  dead  man  and  the  inimical  shadow 
of  the  A.  F.  C.  barred  his  homeward  path. 

"I'll  think  about  it,"  he  sighed.  "I  suppose 
it's  the  only  thing  I  can  do." 

"I'll  throw  in  a  suit  of  black  broadcloth — the 
best  you  can  buy  in  St.  Louis,"  added  Bridger. 

"It's  a  trade,"  sighed  Lander,  "unless  my 
knife-medicine  makes  it  possible  for  me  to  go 
back  to  St.  Louis." 

Bridger  w^as  highly  pleased.  He  had  reached 
the  rendezvous  ahead  of  the  A.  F.  C.  outfit  and 
had  secured  the  cream  of  the  trade.  He  had  made 
the  Upper  Missouri  outfit  admit  his  importance 
by  sending  their  men  to  head  him  off  and  to  com- 
pete with  him.  Now  by  extraordinary  luck  he 
stood  in  position  to  secure  the  bulk  of  the  rich 
Crow  trade.  While  enjoying  these  delectable 
feelings  one  of  his  men  rode  up  and  announced  a 
small  band  was  coming  down  the  river  with  a 
white  man  in  the  lead. 


198        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"Theyll  be  the  A\  F.  C.  outfit,"  said  Bridger, 
and  he  smiled  broadly. 

"Rich  pickings  they'll  git,"  snorted  Baker. 

'Tm  glad  they've  come,"  said  Bridger.  "I  had 
them  in  mind  while  Lander  was  trading  in  the 
Crow  robes  for  me.  I  don't  want  to  pack  'em  to 
St.  Louis.  The  A.  F.  C.  outfit  will  take  'em  back 
to  Fort  Union  rather  than  go  empty-handed. 
Want  to  come  along.  Lander  ?" 

Lander  flushed  with  pleasure  at  the  honor  of 
this  invitation  and  mounting  his  mule  followed 
his  chief  up  the  river  to  meet  the  newcomers. 
There  were  a  score  of  Indians,  full  bloods  and 
breeds,  in  the  outfit.  One  white  man  rode  in 
advance.  On  beholding  Bridger  and  Lander  he 
spurred  ahead  to  greet  them. 

Lander  gave  a  loud  cry  and  nearly  fell  from 
his  mule.  Bridger  reined  in  and  stared  in 
amazement. 

"Malcom  Phinny!"  he  ejaculated. 

"No  one  else,"  replied  Phinny,  smiling  genially. 

•A.  wonderful  wave  of  joy  suffused  Lander's 
whole  being.  By  some  miracle  the  dead  was 
alive.  The  path  to  St.  Louis  and  Susette  was 
open.  This  tremendous  discovery  that  no  homi- 
cide was  charged  against  him  forced  him  to  for- 


KLONG  THE  RIVER  TRAIU       199 

get  his  rancor  against  Phinny.  Never  had  he 
been  so  pleased  to  meet  a  man. 

"Thought  you  was  dead,"  he  faltered. 

"Head's  thick,"  Phinny  good-naturedly 
replied.  "Bullet  creased  my  skull.  Unconscious 
for  a  bit.  Men  thought  I  was  done  for.  I  took 
the  company's  boat  right  after  that  fool  Tilton 
went  up  on  the  Golden  ^Queen  to  bother  you.  It 
was  a  fair  fight  and  what  he  did  wasn't  any  of  my 
doings.  I  don't  bring  any  quarrel  up  here 
against  you.     How's  trade,  Mr.  Bridger?" 

"Fair — I've  got  some  mighty  fine  Crow  robes 
you  can  have  if  you  want  'em." 

"Robes  are  good,  but  we're  after  beaver." 

"Don't  seem  to  be  much  beaver  left.  You 
oughter  got  here  sooner." 

Phinny  swore  and  in  deep  disgust  complained : 

"That's  what  I  told  Mr.  McKenzie,  but  he  was 
so  sure  I'd  be  in  time  he  held  me  back.  What'll 
you  take  in  trade  for  the  robes  ?" 

"Beaver,  or  an  order  on  your  St.  Louis  office 
for  cash." 

"Then  it'll  have  to  be  an  order  at  the  market 
price.  And,  Lander,  I'm  really  glad  to  see  you. 
There's  no  fight  between  us,  I  repeat,  so  far  as 
I'm  concerned." 


200        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"I'm  glad  I  didn't  kill  you.    Let  it  go  at  that." 

"Fighting  is  all  foolishness.  I've  learned  my 
lesson  and  now  know  what  sort  of  a  fool  I've 
been.  But  don't  it  beat  the  devil  how  Mr.  Brid- 
ger  gets  all  the  beaver  ?" 

"First  come  gits  it,"  said  Brldger.  "If  I  built  a 
post  near  Fort  Union,  Kenneth  McKenzie  would 
run  me  out  in  one  season.  But  when  he  chases 
me  through  the  mountains  he's  playing  my  game. 
I'll  show  you  the  robes.    They're  extry  fine." 

Phinny  fell  back  with  his  outfit  and  Bridger 
rode  on  to  camp  with  Lander  and  his  face  was 
grave  and  thoughtful.  Lander  was  impelled  to 
say  : 

"What's  the  matter  ?  They  can't  get  anything. 
You've  cleaned  up  every  skin." 

"I've  been  waiting  for  'em  to  come  an'  take  the 
robes  off  my  hands.  But  the  feller  with  Phinny 
— the  guide — notice  him?" 

"Indian,  and  a  filthy  one." 

"He's  old  Deschamps — Red  River  half-breed. 
Came  to  Missouri  from  the  Pembina  country 
four  years  ago.  Killed  Governor  Robert  Semple 
in  the  Red  River  massacre  back  in  'sixteen.  He's 
robbed  Fort  Union  twice  and  makes  a  practise  of 
robbing  and  whipping  Injun  trappers.     Doesn't 


[ALONG  THE  RIVER  TRAIU       201 

hesitate  to  kill  'em  when  he  'lows  he  won't  git 
caught — bad  devil. 

"Ten  in  his  family.  Three  are  grown-up  sons 
— all  bad.  They  trail  round  with  another  breed 
outfit — Jack  Rem's  family. 

"The  A.  F.  C.  made  a  great  mistake  when  they 
brought  those  cusses  to  the  Missouri  to  act  as 
interpreters  to  the  Assiniboins  an'  Crees.  Young 
Phinny  better  keep  his  eyes  open  if  he  travels 
much  with  a  Deschamps." 

Papa  Clair  was  astounded  and  much  displeased 
when  Lander  broke  the  news  to  him.  Finally  his 
old  face  lighted  and  his  frosty  blue  eyes  began 
to  sparkle. 

"It  can  be  done!"  he  rejoiced.  "Name  of  a 
knife!  It  w^ill  work  out  after  the  wish  of  one's 
heart.  He  is  here.  You  want  your  satisfy.  He 
must  challenge  you.  I  will  see  that  he  does. 
This  time  it  shall  be  with  cold  steel." 

"But  there's  no  cause,"  protested  Lander. 

"There  is;  he  is  alive.  You  suffered  mucH, 
thinking  him  dead.  You  were  attacked  and 
forced  to  flee.  He  is  responsible.  Leave  it 
to  me." 

"No,  no,  Papa  Clair.  No  more  duels  for  me. 
I'm  mighty  glad  he  is  alive.     He's   glad   too. 


202         KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

Admits  it's  foolish  to  bring  a  fight  up  here.  Now 
there  is  nothing  to  stop  me  going  back  to  St. 
Louis." 

"No  more  duels !"  gasped  Papa  Qair.  "Name 
of  a  dog!  It  is  good  I  am  near  the  end  of  the 
trail.     When  I  was  young — bah!" 

For  some  minutes  he  brooded  on  the  decadence 
of  the  times,  Lander  humbly  waiting  for  him  to 
speak.  Finally  he  showed  some  of  his  old  spirit 
and  philosophically  declared : 

"After  all  it  is  the  fashion.  It  can  be  done. 
Men  make  high  names  by  exploring.  If  they  are 
called  liars  they  can  challenge.  At  least  our  win- 
ter in  the  Big  Horn  Valley  will  give  us  the  chance 
to  prove  whether  M'sieu  Bridger  spoke  true. 

"We  will  go  to  the  Yellowstone.  If  we  do  not 
find  the  cave  of  war-paint  I  will  challenge  Brid- 
ger. Sacre  Bleu!  Is  one  to  listen  to  such  stories 
if  they  be  false?" 

"Papa  Clair,  don^t  you  see  there  is  no  longer 
any  need  of  my  wintering  with  the  Crows  ?  I  am 
free  to  return  to  St.  Louis,"  reminded  Lander. 

With  a  groan  of  disgust  Papa  Clair  turned 
aside  and  lamented:  "Ever  so!  M'm'selle's 
eyes  outshine  the  torch  of  glory;  the  torch  of 
power. 


ALONG  Trite  RIVER  TRAIL       203 

"Well,  well.  Come,  old  man.  One  must  have 
been  a  fool  to  be  wise.  Huh!  Is  it  for  you  to 
talk?  And  behold,  M'sieu  Bridger  will  be  the 
disappoint." 

Lander  surmised  as  much  and  it  was  with  con- 
siderable misgivings  that  he  went  in  search  of  his 
chief.  He  found  him  completing  the  transaction 
of  the  robes  with  Phinny.  He  waited  until 
Phinny  superintended  the  carrying  away  of  the 
robes,  but  before  he  could  speak  another  interrup- 
tion occurred.  This  was  a  woebegone  looking 
man,  who  announced  he  had  just  arrived  from 
down-river. 

"If  you  want  a  good  man  I*d  like  to  hire  out 
with  you.  I'm  Ferguson  of  the  H.  B.  I  do  not 
want  to  go  back  to  headquarters.  Blackfeet 
robbed  me  of  forty  packs  of  beaver.  Once  before 
I  lost  the  season's  furs.'* 

"Lucky  they  didn't  take  your  hair,"  said 
Bridger.  "I'm  afraid  I  can't  hire  you  except  as  a 
trapper.    I'll  give  you  credit  for  an  outfit." 

Lander  tugged  Bridger's  arm  and  drew  him 
aside  and  whispered : 

"Send  him  after  the  Crow  trade.  Seeing  that 
I  didn't  kill  Phinny  I'm  going  back  to  St.  Louis 
in  the  fall." 


204        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"The  thunder  you  are!"  exploded  Bridger. 
"What  am  I  paying  you  wages  for?" 

"Then  I  must  go  without  any  wages." 

"How?  I  have  no  mules  to  spare  for  men  who 
quit  me." 

"Then  I'll  walk." 

Bridger  grew  calmer  and  studied  him  sharply. 

"It's  the  little  girl,  I  take  it,"  he  finally 
remarked.  "Old  Hurry-Up  Parker's  girl." 

Lander  confessed  by  coloring  highly.  Bridger 
frowned  and  pursed  his  lips.    Abruptly  he  said : 

"I've  seen  her.  'Bout  as  big  as  a  kitten.  She's 
turned  your  head.  I  don't  blame  you.  You're  a 
fool  but  you've  got  a  mighty  pretty  excuse. 

"See  here,  Ferguson,  I  can  use  you  after  all. 
You  shall  winter  with  the  Crows  and  bring  their 
hunt  here  next  season.  I'll  take  all  their  robes, 
but  it's  beaver  I  want  Git  'em  after  beaver.  I'll 
draw  up  the  papers  later  and  Baker  will  git  up 
your  equipment." 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Bridger.  Perhaps  you  can 
give  me  a  writing,  saying  I  lost  my  furs  to  the 
Blackfeet  I'll  send  it  to  Fort  Union  by  Mr. 
Phinny  where  one  of  the  Red  River  breeds  can 
take  it  up  the  Saskatchewan  post.     If  the  Black- 


ALONG  THE  RIVER  TRAIL       205 

feet  take  the  furs  there  In  trade  the  company  can 
seize  'em,  as  my  marks  are  on  the  packs.'* 

"I'll  give  you  the  writing,"  agreed  Bridger. 
"Why  not  put  in  it  a'  agreement  between  me  an' 
you  as  agent  for  the  company,  that  if  by  any 
chance  or  risk  I  manage  to  git  the  furs  back  from 
the  Blackfeet  I  pay  the  H.  B.  ten  per  cent,  an' 
keep  the  rest.  I  don't  stand  a  chance  in  a  million 
of  gettin'  'em.  An'  the  H.  B.  has  lost  'em  for 
good." 

Ferguson  was  eager  to  assent  to  this  proposi- 
tion, as  he  well  knew  the  H.  B.  otherwise  would 
never  see  the  value  of  a  single  skin  should  the 
packs  be  recovered  by  any  English  or  American 
traders.  During  the  course  of  the  day  the  agree- 
ment was  drawn  up  and  signed  and  given  to 
Phinny,  who  promised  to  send  it  by  express  to 
the  Saskatchewan  post.  This  done,  Ferguson 
was  duly  employed  as  Crow  agent  for  the  Rocky 
Mountain  Company. 

Lander  walked  on  air  as  he  moved  about  the 
camp  and  visualized  his  return  to  St.  Louis. 
Hurry-Up  Parker's  hostility  was  forgotten.  He 
had  proved  himself  to  himself  and  now  felt  con- 
fident to  look  any  man  in  the  eye.  He  had  made 
the  trip  to  the  mountains.     He  would  go  to 


2o6        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

Susette  and,  with  her  father's  consent,  determine 
the  date  of  the  wedding  day.  Parker  would  prob- 
ably insist  on  a  probationary  term  spent  in  the 
services  of  the  A.  F.  C.  Very  good — ^he  would 
reenter  the  employment  of  the  A.  F.  C.  and  make 
good. 

"Asleep  ?"  broke  in  a  voice. 

Lander  looked  up  and  blinked  at  Phinny.  The 
A.  F.  C.  representative  remarked : 

'TVe  spoken  to  you  three  times.  Say,  I'm 
regular  dished  on  this  trip.  Mr.  McKenzie  will 
feel  like  shipping  me  back  to  St.  Louis  for  not 
getting  here  ahead  of  Mr.  Bridger. 

"But  what  could  I  do  with  that  crazy  breed  to 
guide  me ;  and  he  smuggling  along  some  rum  and 
getting  drunk  before  we  was  clear  of  the  Yel- 
lowstone and  being  laid  up  sick?  He  swore  the 
Assiniboins  put  poison  in  his  liquor  before  we 
quit  the  fort.    Blames  it  on  to  old  Gauche." 

"He'll  be  mad  because  you  didn't  git  here  in 
time  to  make  some  of  the  trade?"  asked  Lander 
sympathetically. 

"Like  it?  I'll  probably  be  put  back  in  that 
cussed  store  or  sent  down  to  Cabanne's  post  to 
handle  what's  left  of  the  Pawnee  trade.  I'll  be 
lucky  if  I'm  not  kicked  out.     Mr.  McKenzie  is 


ALONG  THE  RIVER  TRAIL!       207 

much  worked  up  at  the  way  Mr.  B ridge r  is  get- 
ting the  beaver.  The  robes  will  help  a  little,  only 
it'll  be  mighty  hard  work  getting  them  back  to 
Union." 

Lander  began  to  pity  him.  Also  he  disliked  the 
idea  of  Phinny's  returning  to  St.  Louis.  The 
man  wanted  to  stay  at  Fort  Union,  and  that  was 
the  one  spot  on  earth  Lander  wished  him  to  locate 
in  permanently.     Phinny  continued  : 

"There  is  a  chance  for  me  to  make  good  in  a 
small  way.  One  of  the  free  trappers  told  my 
breed  guide  that  he  has  a  small  cache  of  beaver 
three  days  up  the  river.  If  I  can  trade  for  them 
my  trip  won't  seem  so  much  of  a  failure.  I'll 
make  Mr.  McKenzie  think  I  traded  them  right  out 
from  under  Mr.  Bridger's  nose. 

"The  trapper's  mad  at  Bridger  for  refusing 
him  credit,  so  the  R.  M.  F.  can't  get  them  any- 
way. It's  either  the  A.  F.  C.  or  that  outfit  of 
Connecticut  Yankees  under  Wyeth.  I'm  going 
for  them  and  I  don't  want  to  take  any  of  my  own 
men  as  they  might  blab  at  the  fort  that  I  got  them 
easy  instead  of  getting  the  best  of  Mr.  Bridger 
in  open  trade.    My  breed  will  guide  me. 

"One  of  your  men.  Porker,  is  willing  to  go 
with  me  if  Mr.  Bridger  is  willing.     If  you'd  go 


2o8        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

along  you'd  be  helping  me  out  a  lot — Lord  knows 
you  ain't  got  any  reason  to  feel  friendly  toward 
me. 

"That's  all  right,"  said  tander,  eager  to  help 
him  establish  a  secure  standing  at  Fort  Union,  yet 
scarcely  relishing  the  trip.  **Porker  wouldn't 
dare  go  without  the  boss'  consent;  neither  would 
I." 

"That's  just  the  reason  why  I  come  to  you. 
I  want  you  to  put  it  up  to  Mr.  Bridger.  If  he'll 
let  youf  two  men  go  I'll  return  to  Union  with  a 
bit  of  credit  as  a  trader,  and  when  Mr.  Bridger 
wants  to  trade  more  robes  he'll  find  me  the  man 
to  deal  with." 

"Would  you  go  and  return  inside  of  six  days  ?" 
mused  Lander. 

"Easy.  Good  trail,  the  breed  says,  and  the 
man's  waiting  to  turn  them  over." 

Lander  placed  the  proposition  before  Bridger, 
who  smiled  in  deep  amusement  at  Phinny's  naive 
confession — that  he  wished  to  appear  as  outwit- 
ting the  head  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  Fur  Com- 
pany in  a  matter  of  trade.  It  was  characteristic 
of  his  kindly  heart  that  he  should  readily  consent, 
saying : 

"If  it'll  help  him  any — yes.    I  owe  him  a  good 


ALONG  THE  RIVER  TRAIL       209 

turn  for  taking  the  robes.    They'd  been an' 

repeat  to  pack  to  St.  Louis.  Call  it  a  holiday  and 
go  with  him. 

"Long  Simons  says  there  is  no  signs  of  hostiles 
within  fifty  miles  of  us.  Baker  isn't  so  sure,  but 
his  Snake  friends  have  been  reading  their  medi- 
cine and  filling  him  up.  Too  many  friendly  In- 
JJuns  and  trappers  here  for  the  Blackfeet  to  be 
sneaking  round. 

"It's  Bill  Tracy  who's  got  the  furs.  There's 
eight  or  ten  packs,  and  the  R.  M.  F.  isn't  passing 
'em  by  ordinarily.  He's  sore  because  I  wouldn't 
let  him  have  a  keg  of  liquor  on  credit.  I  offered 
an  outfit  but  he  wanted  the  rum. 

"He  offered  the  cache  to  the  New  England 
outfit,  but  Wyeth  was  suspicious  an'  wouldn't 
dicker  unless  the  packs  was  fetched  in  here.  Take 
a  mule  an'  go  ahead." 

"Can  Papa  Clair  go  with  us  ?" 

"No,  siree !  Think  I  come  up  here  to  work  for 
the  A.  F.  C.  ?  You  can  go  as  you're  not  any  help 
just  now.  Papa  Clair  is  always  a  help.  An'  be 
bacic  at  the  end  of  the  sixth  day  or  you'll  find  us 
gone. 

"We're  'bout  to  split  up  into  small  parties.  The 
A.  F.  C.  will  try  to  tag  us  round,  and  I  may  make 


210  •      KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

a  jump  dear  into  tEe  Blackfoot  country.     Then 
let  them  follow  an'  lose  their  hair." 

Lander  said  nothing  about  Porker.  Bridger's 
tone  did  not  invite  further  requests.  Very  possi- 
bly Phinny  had  agreed  to  pay  Porker  well  and 
the  man  would  undertake  the  trip  without  per- 
mission. But  that  was  Porker's  affair.  Return- 
ing to  Phinny  he  reported  the  results  of  his  mis- 
sion and  reminded  him  that  he  must  be  back  in 
six  days. 

"We  can  make  it  easy.  IVe  already  started 
old  Deschamps  ahead  to  make  the  packs  ready 
for  the  mules.  He  took  two  mules  besides  the 
one  he  is  riding.  His  trail  will  be  easy  to  follow 
if  Porker  can't  go. 

"Sorry  you  didn't  ask  about  Porker,  but  Mr. 
Bridger  might  have  said,  *No.'  You  don't  care 
if  Porker  goes  without  asking?" 

"Nothing  to  me  as  I  don't  know  anything 
about  it.  If  he  goes  I  shall  take  it  for  granted  he 
got  permission,"  said  Lander  with  a  smile. 

Papa  Clair  and  Long  Simons  were  about  to 
depart  in  search  of  beaver  country  along  the  vari- 
ous small  tributaries  of  the  Green.  Lander 
wished  he  were  going  with  them.  Jim  Baker  was 
visiting  the  Snake  Indians,  now  camped  ten  miles 


ALONG  THE  RIVER  TRAIL       211 

below  the  rendezvous.  Clair  and  Simons  did  not 
suggest  that  Lander  go  with  them,  and  he  did  not 
feel  called  on  to  speak  of  his  trip  with  Phinny. 

The  man  Porker  was  busily  cleaning  his  rifle 
and  sharpening  his  knife  and  gave  Lander  a 
knowing  glance.  There  was  no  doubt  about 
Porker  making  the  trip  to  Tracy's  cache. 

The  first  night  out  was  very  warm.  The  men 
had  not  bothered  to  bring  any  tent,  and  although 
a  canvas  is  but  a  frail  protection  Lander  wished 
he  had  something  for  shelter.  Porker  laughed  at 
him.     Phinny  smiled  more  politely. 

"It's  the  wolves,"  Lander  explained,  feeling 
sheepish  because  of  his  squeamishness. 

"Wolves!"  guffawed  Porker.  "A  mountain 
man  don't  keer  a  cuss  for  all  th'  wolves  this  side 
o'  Tophet." 

"Old  mountain  men  tell  me  the  wolves  are 
quite  harmless  unless  starving,"  Phinny  said. 

"I'm  not  entirely  an  idiot,"  assured  Lander 
with  a  laugh.  "I'm  not  afraid  of  wolves  that  act 
natural.  But  several  times  to-day  when  I  was 
riding  behind,  one  big  fellow  almost  passed  under 
my  horse  and  took  a  snap  at  my  heel.  He  was 
too  fat  to  be  hungry,  but  he  was  keen  to  bite. 
Now  wolves  don't  act  that  way." 


212        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

Porker's  merriment  vanished  and  he  glanced 
uneasily  about  their  camp. 

"Mad  wolf — that's  what  he  was/'  he  mum- 
bled. "They  do  git  pestiferous  this  time  o'  year. 
Two  seasons  ago  they  bit  a  bull  that  belonged  to 
th'  A.  F.  C.  outfit.  We  was  bringin'  up  th'  bull 
an'  six  cows.  Bull  went  mad.  I  don't  wanter  see 
any  sight  like  that  again !" 

"I  thought  that  was  all  stuff,"  said  Phinny, 
peering  anxiously  about.  "Must  be  wolves  that's 
hungry." 

"No,  sir!"  emphatically  denied  Porker. 
"They'll  go  right  by  dead  buf'ler.  All  they 
wanter  do  is  to  bite  something.  I  was  with  a'  out- 
fit on  th'  Sweetwater  when  a  big  gray  feller 
sneaked  into  our  camp  an'  bit  th'  stock.  We  had 
tents  an'  I  hope  to  die  if  he  didn't  come  into  one 
tent  three  times  in  one  night.  We  had  orders  not 
to  shoot ;  th'  boss  thinkin'  we'd  kill  each  other,  or 
th'  mules. 

"Twice  th'  fellers  drove  him  out  with  heavin' 
things  at  him,  but  th'  last  trip  they  was  all  asleep, 
and  he  chewed  George  Holmes  on  th'  ear  'n'  face 
somethin'  cruel.  Holmes  begin  to  say  he  was 
goin'  mad.  Got  so  bad  he  wouldn't  cross  water 
till  we'd  covered  him  with  blankets.     Then  one 


ALONG  THE  RIVER  TRAIL       213 

day  he  had  fits,  an'  that  night  threw  away  his 
clothes  an*  run  off,  an'  was  never  seen  since/' 

"Don't!"  shivered  Lander.  "I'll  sleep  in  a  tree 
if  you  keep  on." 

"Yes,  that's  enough,'*  growled  Phinny. 
"Lucky  if  they  don't  git  in  and  bite  the  mules." 

"If  they  try  that  they'll  be  lucky  not  to  have 
their  derned  heads  kicked  off.  We'll  keep  a  fire 
an'  stand  watch.  Fire  won't  skeer  'em  if  they're 
mad,  but  it'll  give  a  light  to  shoot  by." 

It  fell  to  Lander  to  stand  the  first  watch  and  he 
was  glad  as  he  was  too  nervous  to  sleep.  He 
patrolled  back  and  forth  for  an  hour,  pausing 
only  to  replenish  the  small  fire,  and  then  sat 
down  satisfied  the  night  would  pass  without  any 
intrusions. 

Something  whitish-gray,  moving  noiselessly  so 
far  as  his  ears  were  able  to  register,  passed  by 
him  and  toward  the  mules.  For  a  second  he 
believed  it  was  imagination;  then  the  mules  set 
up  a  fearful  braying  and  kicking,  and  thinking 
he  glimpsed  the  furtive  shape  he  discharged  his 
rifle. 

Phinny  and  Porker  came  to  their  feet  and 
snatched  up  their  weapons. 

"What  is  it?"  roared  Porker. 


214        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"Wolf!"  yelled  Lander,  rushing  toward  the 
mules  and  expecting  to  find  the  terrible  visitor 
dead.  But  he  could  not  find  even  a  drop  of 
blood. 

His  companions  swore  fretfully  as  he  returned 
to  the  fire,  and  insisted  he  had  dreamed  it.  Lan- 
der angrily  asked  if  they  believed  the  mules  also 
had  dreamed  it.  But  his  companions  had  heard 
only  the  rifle-shot  and  believed  it  was  that  which 
frightened  the  mules. 

"Jest  tuck  this  inter  yer  pipe  an'  smoke  it," 
warned  Porker.  "No  more  shootin'  in  this  camp. 
Ye'll  be  pottin'  either  me  or  Phinny  next.  It's 
all  right  to  heave  a'  ax,  but  this  sprinklin'  lead 
round  every  time  ye  have  a  bad  dream " 

"Oh,  shut  up!  If  you  two  say  not  to  fire — 
all  right,  I  won't  fire.  But  if  you  get  nipped 
don't  blame  me." 

"We  certainly  haven't  any  right  to  find  fault 
with  you,"  mollified  Phinny.  "Reckon  we're  all 
rather  nervous.  Only  thing  I  heard  was  the  shot, 
then  the  mules,  and  it  scared  me  blue.  But  we'll 
all  agree  to  shoot  off  no  gims  in  camp.  It  might 
fetch  some  small  band  of  Injuns  down  on  us." 

Irritated  at  the  fault-finding,  Lander  sullenly 
completed  his  watch  and  aroused  Porker.     The 


ALONG  THE  RIVER  TRAIL       215 

latter  asked  if  there  Had  been  any  signs  of  a  wolf, 
and  Lander  growled  a  negative.  Porker  lighted 
his  pipe  and  took  his  turn.  When  he  called 
Phinny  it  was  growing  light  in  the  east. 

"Reckon  ye  won't  have  much  to  do,"  yawned 
Porker,  returning  to  his  blankets. 

Phinny  walked  about  until  thoroughly  awake; 
then  discovered  the  mules  were  acting  uneasy 
and  went  to  them.  As  he  came  up  they  milled 
about  and  lashed  out  with  their  heels.  Something 
darted  by  him  and  he  leaped  aside  and  heard,  or 
fancied  he  heard,  the  click  of  poisonous  teeth.  In 
another  moment  Porker  screamed  and  staggered 
to  his  feet,  firing  his  rifle  blindly  and  sending 
the  ball  near  Phinny's  head. 

"You  fool!  Trying  to  kill  me?"  roared 
Phinny. 

"Oh,  God!"  cried  Porker,  whirling  frantically 
about.    "Th'  wolf  bit  me !    Now  I'll  go  mad !" 

"Nonsense!"  yelped  Phinny,  his  voice  quaver- 
ing with  fear. 

Lander  came  out  of  his  blankets  and  taking  in 
the  situation  demanded,  "Let  me  look  at  you." 

He  turned  Porker  about  and  felt  the  massive 
form  trembling  violently.  There  was  no  doubt 
but  that  something  had  bitten  him,  for  his  chin 


2i6        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

was  covered  with  blood.  Lander  stirred  up  the 
fire,  threw  on  some  dry  stalks  and  washed  the 
blood  away  and  found  the  marks  of  teeth. 
Thrusting  a  ramrod  into  the  fire,  he  heated  it 
and  cauterized  the  wounds,  and  encouraged  him. 

*Tt's  nothing.  Skin  barely  broken.  You'll  be 
all  right.     Probably  some  kind  of  a  rat." 

Phinny  knew  better,  but  held  his  tongue.  As 
the  day  broke  he  secretly  studied  the  mountain 
man  as  if  expecting  to  behold  immediate  symp- 
toms of  hydrophobia.  Under  Lander's  cheerful 
encouragement  Porker  recovered  his  composure 
and  affected  to  have  no  fears.  Yet  when  he 
filled  his  pipe  his  big  hands  trembled,  and  more 
than  once  he  sought  to  study  his  lacerated  face 
in  pools  of  water. 

Their  course  lay  up  the  Green,  and  they  found 
the  traveling  easy  with  a  broad  trail  left  by  Des- 
champs  and  his  mules.  The  finding  of  several 
broken  arrow-shafts  told  them  it  was  a  thorough- 
fare for  the  Indians.  Porker  examined  the  shafts 
and  said  they  had  weathered  for  at  least  one 
season. 

Throughout  the  day  Porker  was  normal  in  his 
bearing,  but  toward  sundown  he  became  silent, 
which  was  not  characteristic  of  him.     Once  a 


ALONG  THE  RIVER  TRAIL       217 

gray  form  flashed  across  the  trail  ahead  and  he 
shook  in  a  paroxysm  of  fear.  However,  he  man- 
aged to  keep  his  nerves  well  under  control.  He 
bolted  his  supper  hurriedly  and  although  it  was 
his  turn  to  stand  the  first  watch  he  rolled  up  in 
his  blankets. 

*'He's  powerful  scared,"  whispered  Lander. 
"You  wake  me  for  the  second  watch  and  we'll  let 
him  sleep  through.  A  full  sleep  will  fix  him  all 
right." 

This  was  done  and  Lander  found  nothing  to 
disturb  his  dreams  of  Susette  until  near  morning. 
He  was  half-way  through  the  extra  watch  and 
thinking  of  the  girl,  marking  time  until  it  should 
grow  light  enough  for  him  to  start  the  breakfast, 
when  a  dirty  gray  form  flashed  from  cover  and 
streaked  toward  the  camp.  Instinctively  his  rifle 
flew  up  and  discharged,  and  the  gray  patch  took 
to  the  air  and  came  down  within  a  few  feet  of 
Porker.  Both  Porker  and  Phinny  sprang  erect  at 
the  shot. 

"I  got  him  this  time!"  cried  Lander  pointing. 

It  was  a  big  gray  wolf,  and  its  jaws,  agape, 
were  hideous  to  contemplate.  This  time  neither 
of  his  companions  found  any  fault  with  his 
shooting. 


2i8        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"Same  feller  that  nipped  me,"  shuddered 
Porker.  Then  hopefully:  "Some  say  ye  ain't  in 
any  danger  if  ye  kill  th'  cuss.'* 

"That's  right,"  heartily  agreed  Lander.  "Be- 
sides, I  burned  all  the  poison  out." 

"I  don't  count  much  on  th'  burnin'.  Took  too 
long  for  th'  iron  to  heat.  What  ye  oughter  done 
was  rub  in  gunpowder  an'  touch  it  off.  Wal,  I'm 
derned  glad  he's  dead,  an'  let's  be  gittin'  away 
from  here." 

It  was  with  difficulty  that  they  induced  him  to 
wait  until  they  had  eaten.  He  refused  to  touch 
any  food. 

"Eat  something,"  insisted  Phinny. 

"Curse  ye,  I  ain't  hungry!"  snarled  Porker, 
striding  to  the  mules  and  beginning  to  saddle  up. 

Phinny  looked  at  Lander  inquiringly. 

"I  don't  know  any  more  than  you  do,"  said 
Lander.  "Bridger  and  Baker  say  mad  wolves 
will  pass  by  food  and  seem  keen  only  to  bite 
somicthing.  I  don't  even  know  that  that  dead 
brute  was  mad ;  or  if  he  was  if  he's  the  same  one 
that  bit  Porker.  But  if  Porker  gets  to  thinking 
things  hard  enough  he'll  go  mad." 

They  mounted,  and  Porker,  contrary  to  his 
usual  custom,   rode  some  distance  ahead  of  his 


ALONG  THE  RIVER  TRAIL       219 

companions.  According  to  Lander's  reckoning 
they  were  almost  up  to  the  cache. 

Phinny  watched  Porker  steadily.  It  was  easy 
to  read  Phinny's  mind  by  watching  his  eyes.  He 
was  afraid  of  the  big  man  ahead.  Porker,  usu- 
ally so  gregarious,  now  seemed  loath  to  come  near 
them,  and  when  Lander  did  manage  to  ride 
abreast  of  him  and  manage  to  catch  his  gaze  he 
saw  that  which  made  him  willing  to  drop  back 
with  Phinny. 

Kear  sundown  a  man  came  galloping  a  mule 
down  the  river  bank.  Lander  covered  him  with 
his  rifle,  but  Phinny  called  out : 

"Don't  shoot!     It's  old  Deschamps!" 

The  breed  came  on,  his  wily  eyes  instantly  de- 
tecting constraint  in  the  three  men.  He  glanced 
askance  at  Porker,  who  kept  to  one  side  and  made 
no  move  to  join  his  mates.  In  an  undertone  and 
speaking  rapidly  Phinny  explained  what  had 
happened. 

"Bad,"  grunted  Deschamps.  "Better  kill  'um." 
And  he  fingered  his  gun. 

"No,  no!"  hissed  Phinny.  "He'll  be  all  right 
if  he  gets  over  his  scare." 

Deschamps,  who  understood  English  much  bet- 
ter than  he  could  speak  it,  nodded  his  head  slowly. 


220        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

Lander,  who  was  anxious  to  have  done  with  the 
disagreeable  trip  and  its  possible  tragedy, 
asked : 

"How  far  to  the  cache  ?" 

Deschamps  eyed  him  stolidly  as  if  not  under- 
standing. Phinny  repeated  the  query  sternly. 
With  a  sullen  duck  of  his  head  the  breed  held  up 
one  finger. 

"One  day !"  cried  Lander  in  disgust.  "It  won't 
do.     We  should  be  turning  back  to-morrow." 

"One  sleep/'  corrected  Deschamps. 

"Means  we  can  camp  here  to-night,  raise  the 
cache  to-morrow  and  start  back,"  said  Phinny. 
"It  must  be  near  as  he  has  left  the  pack  mules 
there." 

"Sleep,  then  go.  Mules  there,"  grunted 
Deschamps. 

They  called  to  Porker  and  told  him  their  plans. 
He  made  no  reply  but  hobbled  the  mules.  He 
made  no  offer  to  help  with  the  evening  meal,  but 
after  some  meat  had  broiled  he  seized  a  portion 
and  withdrew  and  attacked  it  ravenously  for  a 
few  minutes ;  then  seemed  to  lose  his  appetite. 

Suddenly  he  began  to  laugh,  not  his  usual  bois- 
terous guffaw,  but  a  strident,  interminable  cack- 
ling with  a  peculiar  metallic  quality  in  his  voice. 


ALONG  THE  RIVER  TRAIL       221 

Lander  was  frozen  with  horror,  and  Phinny 
stealthily  reached  for  his  rifle.  Old  Deschamps 
effaced  himself  in  a  clump  of  bushes. 

"What's  the  matter,  man?"  sharply  demanded 
Lander.    "Stop  it  and  light  your  pipe." 

"Light  my  pipe,  ye  pasty-faced  pet  o'  Jim 
Bridger's,"  croaked  Porker,  twisting  his  thick 
lips  in  a  most  grotesque  manner  as  if  each  word 
had  to  be  dislodged  by  force.  "By  this  time  to- 
morrer  I'll  be  lightin'  my  pipe  in  the  other  world 
an'  yer  ha'r'll  be  hangin'  in  a  Blackfoot  lodge." 

"Shut  up  that  fool  talk!"  shrilly  commanded 
Phinny,  drawing  the  gun  to  his  side. 

Porker  was  seized  with  a  convulsion  of  laugh- 
ter. His  mirth  was  titanic  and  of  a  horrible 
quality.  Pointing  a  quivering  finger  at  the  dazed 
Lander  he  shrieked: 

"Ye  poor  fool !  Tried  to  make  it  hot  for  me  in 
Bridger's  outfit,  eh?  Wal,  here  ye  be  only  a  few 
feet  behind  ol'  Porker  when  he  takes  th'  long 
trail. 

"Goin'  bacic  to  St.  Louis,  be  ye  ?  Yer  hide  will 
be  tanned  by  Blackfoot  smoke.  They'll  find  me 
mad  as  th'  mad  wolf  what  bit  me.  They'll  find 
ye " 


222         KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

Phinny  fired  and  Porker  went  down  on  his 
face. 

"Why  did  you  do  that?"  gasped  Lander,  break- 
ing into  a  clammy  sweat. 

"He's  gone  mad!"  panted  Phinny,  working 
with  desperate  haste  to  reload.  "It  was  his  life 
or  ours." 

"He  said  they'd  find  me — wish  he'd  finished," 
muttered  Lander. 

"Crazy  talk.  Hand  me  that  ramrod,"  puffed 
Phinny,  his  hands  shaking. 

Lander  stooped  and  reached  for  the  ramrod. 
The  bushes  stirred  and  he  started  to  lift  his  head. 
Then  a  crash  and  nothingness. 


Chapter  IX 

IN    THE    MEDICINE   LODGE 

^T^THEN  Lander  came  to  his  senses  he  was 
^  ~  hanging  across  a  pony,  unable  to  move  a 
limb,  and  the  rapid  motion  of  the  animal  caused 
him  exquisite  torment.  His  head  felt  as  if  it 
were  about  to  burst  and  he  tried  to  twist  it  up  to 
relieve  the  blood-pressure. 

There  was  the  sound  of  many  horses  around 
him  and  it  was  night.  There  was  a  great  roaring 
in  his  ears  that  was  not  made  by  nature  or  his 
unseen  companions. 

Finally  he  caught  the  guttural  voices  of 
Indians  and  vaguely  comprehended  his  plight. 
Phinny  had  shot  Porker;  then  the  Indians  came 
from  ambush  and  knocked  them  in  the  head. 
Whether  Phinny  was  a  captive  or  dead  he  had 
no  idea. 

The  Crows  would  rob  white  men  but  were 
loath  to  kill  them.  The  fact  he  had  been  struck 
223 


224        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

down  by  some  blunt  instrument  and  not  perma- 
nently harmed  suggested  Crows  as  his  captors. 
But  he  could  not  believe  they  were  from  Black 
Arrow's  band.  The  chief  expected  him  to  winter 
with  the  tribe  and  would  gain  nothing  by  mak- 
ing him  a  prisoner. 

Also  there  were  Nez  Perces,  Flatheads  and 
Snakes  in  and  about  the  rendezvous;  but  these 
tribes  were  friendly  with  the  whites  and  seldom 
bothered  them  even  when  engaged  in  tribal  wars. 
This  left  the  Blackfeet,  who  were  known  to  be 
gathered  near  the  Three  Tetons  in  great  num- 
bers, and  who  doubtless  were  sending  small  bands 
down  the  Sweetwater  and  Green  to  pick  off 
stray  victims. 

He  decided  he  must  be  in  the  power  of  the  Sik- 
sika,  or  Blackfeet.  Even  a  store-man  in  St. 
Louis  must  know  the  history  of  this  tribe's  unre- 
lenting hatred  for  Americans.  The  bulk  of  Kit 
Carson's  Indian  fights  were  with  these  people. 
The  Sioux  tribes  and  their  treacherous  tenants, 
the  Aricaras,  were  bad  enough,  but  with  these 
tribes  there  were  lulls — peaceful  intervals  when 
boats  ascended  the  river  without  being  attacked. 

Not  so  with  the  Blackfeet.  To  meet  an  Amer- 
ican band  of  trappers  was  the  signal  for  battle. 


IN  THE  MEDICINE  LODGE       225 

They  carried  their  trade  to  the  H.  B.  posts  in 
Canada,  or  turned  it  over  to  outposts  below 
the  national  boundary  line.  With  the  Americans 
they  would  have  nothing  but  war. 

Bridger  and  his  associates  usually  spoke  of 
their  country  as  the  **butcher-shop/'  and  what 
beaver  was  taken  above  the  Milk  was  usually 
accompanied  by  running  fights — the  white  men 
retreating. 

If  the  Blackfeet  denied  themselves  trade  priv- 
ileges with  the  American  traders  they  were  never 
tempted,  as  w^ere  the  Assiniboins,  to  exchange  all 
their  robes  for  diluted  alcohol  in  weather  when 
Indians  ponies  froze  to  death  standing  tip.  If 
they  lost  warriors  by  white  men's  bullets,  they 
lost  less  than  many  other  tribes  did  through  dis- 
ease. Lander  knew  if  he  was  a  captive  of  this 
terrible  people  he  stood  no  chance  of  being 
adopted  or  ransomed,  but  must  die  beneath  all 
the  torture  his  captors'  hideous  ingenuity  could 
provide. 

He  groaned  dismally,  and  instantly  a  hand 
rested  on  his  neck.  Soon  the  ponies  came  to  a 
halt  and  he  was  untied  from  his  mount  and 
dumped  on  the  ground  like  a  pack  of  skins.  With 
the  breath  knocked  from  his  body  and  in  immi- 


22(>         KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

nent  danger  of  being  trampled  on  in  the  darkness, 
still  he  felt  immeasurably  better  as  the  blood 
cleared  from  his  head. 

No  attention  was  given  him  except  as  some 
man  ran  his  fingers  over  his  person  to  make  sure 
the  thongs  were  secure.  Next  the  ponies  were 
led  to  one  side  and  the  warriors  threw  themselves 
on  the  ground,  and  the  camp  became  quiet.  Lan- 
der worked  at  his  bonds  only  to  find  the  slightest 
movement  brought  a  hand  fumbling  at  the  knots. 

As  he  persisted  the  edge  of  a  knife  was  placed 
against  his  throat.  After  this  threat  he  remained 
very  quiet.  Despite  his  fears  and  tortured  posi- 
tion he  dozed  off  at  last,  and  when  much  commo- 
tion aroused  him  it  was  early  morning  and  his 
captors  were  preparing  to  resume  their  journey. 

The  expedition  was  in  command  of  the  Black- 
feet  military  organization,  the  Ikunuhkahtsi' — All 
Comrades — and  the  strictest  obedience  was  given 
the  orders  of  the  leader.  This  man  was  short  and 
thick-set,  and  wore  several  necklaces  of  grizzly- 
bear  teeth. 

No  attention  was  paid  the  prisoner  until  after 
the  men  had  eaten.  Then  he  was  jerked  to  his 
feet  and  thrown  astride  a  horse.  Neither  food 
nor  water  w^as  offered  him. 


IN  THE  MEDICINE  LODGE       227 

Once  he  had  gazed  about,  his  stomach  revolted 
at  the  thought  of  food.  Around  the  necks  of 
several  horses,  and  including  his  own  mount,  were 
tied  the  freshly  severed  hands  and  feet  of  Indians. 
The  band  had  been  in  a  fight  with  some  of  the 
plains  tribes  and  were  bringing  home  the 
trophies.  The  leader  carried  a  tall  lance,  and  tied 
to  the  top  of  this  were  several  scalps.  They  rode 
due  north  toward  the  Gros  Ventres  Range,  mak- 
ing for  the  heart  of  the  mountains.  Suffering 
horribly  from  thirst  but  not  daring  to  ask  for 
water,  Lander  clenched  his  teeth  and  stared 
straight  ahead,  trying  to  hold  his  head  high  that 
his  gaze  might  escape  the  gruesome  decorations 
around  his  pony's  neck. 

Although  he  did  not  know  it  this  bearing  fav- 
orably impressed  his  captors,  who  interpreted  it 
as  the  index  of  a  high  and  haughty  spirit.  Had 
they  realized  it  was  due  to  a  weak  heart  and  faint 
stomach  they  probably  would  have  slain  him  on 
the  spot. 

At  midday  they  halted  at  a  waterhole  and  a 
warrior  held  up  a  leather  bucket  filled  to  the 
brim,  and  motioned  for  Lander  to  drink.  As  he 
eagerly  accepted  the  invitation  the  bucket  was 
placed  upside  down  on  his  head.     He  fell  from 


228        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

his  horse  and  nearly  choked  to  death.    The  joke 
was  hailed  with  much  laughter. 

Desperate  and  only  anxious  to  have  it  quickly 
over  with^  Lander  forgot  to  be  afraid,  and  bow- 
ing his  head  he  butted  his  tormentor  in  the  face, 
smashing  his  nose  and  lips  and  hurling  him  into 
the  hole.  The  savage  scrambled  out  and  came 
at  him  with  drawn  knife.  The  leader  yelled  an 
order  and  several  braves  seized  the  infuriated 
man  and  held  him  back. 

Then  another  warrior  filled  the  bucket  and 
allowed  Lander  to  drink.  In  all  his  life  he  had 
never  known  such  exquisite  pleasure  as  when  the 
ice-cold  water  filled  his  parched  and  feverish 
throat.  Some  jerked  meat  was  next  offered  him, 
but  he  was  unable  to  eat  with  his  arms  strapped 
to  his  sides. 

The  leader  again  spoke,  and  his  cramped  limbs 
were  released.  He  had  thought  it  impossible  to 
eat  fresh  bull-meat  in  Bridger's  camp;  now  he 
made  short  work  of  long  strings  of  tough,  bark- 
like substance.  As  he  bolted  the  leathery  ration 
he  discovered  he  could  look  on  the  ghastly  tro- 
phies without  feeling  squeamish. 

He  rode  the  whole  afternoon  without  any  great 
discomfort.     Now  that  he  had  eaten  and  drunk 


IN  THE  MEDICINE  LODGE       229 

he  began  to  scheme  to  escape.  They  had  deprived 
him  of  his  rifle  and  belt,  the  latter  containing-  a 
short  skinning-knife.  But  they  had  not  thought 
to  remove  his  boots,  and  Papa  Clair's  long  gift 
blade  still  reposed  in  its  scabbard. 

The  day's  journey  terminated  once  the  band 
had  passed  through  a  narrow  canon  and  had 
entered  a  circular  pocket  several  miles  in  diame- 
ter. Here  seemed  to  be  a  permanent  camp,  pos- 
sibly the  advance  of  the  main  body  of  the  Three 
Tetons,  seeking  small  bands  of  trappers  before 
returning  to  the  home  country  at  the  sources  of 
the  Missouri.  That  they  had  no  fears  of  surprise 
attacks  was  shown  by  their  relaxation  once  they 
came  up  to  the  skin  tents,  where  the  women 
rushed  out  to  greet  them. 

The  scalps  were  given  to  the  squaws  to  dance 
and  trample  upon.  The  trophies  were  removed 
from  the  horses  and  elevated  upon  lances  and 
poles  and  became  centers  of  much  derisive  atten- 
tion. The  squaws  attempted  to  get  at  Lander  but 
were  bundled  aside  by  the  men.  He  was  uncere- 
moniously thrown  to  the  ground  and  pegged  out 
in  spread-eagle  fashion. 

After  the  kettles  of  meat  had  cooked^  two  war- 
riors released  his  arms  and  allowed  him  to  sit 


230         KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

up  to  eat.  He  found  the  meat  tender  and  sav- 
ory despite  the  lack  of  salt.  Suddenly  become  a 
fatalist,  he  decided  he  would  die  on  a  full  stomach, 
and  quickly  devoured  a  large  quantity.  He  was 
allowed  to  drink,  then  was  thrown  and  pegged 
out. 

While  sitting  up  he  had  gained  a  glimpse  of 
the  camp  and  saw  it  was  a  large  one.  The  leather 
tents  were  uniform  in  size  and  pattern.  Directly 
behind  him,  and  so  near  he  could  almost  touch  it 
with  his  outstretched  hand^  was  an  unusually 
large  lodge,  oblong  in  shape. 

Night  came  abruptly  to  the  pocket.  Numerous 
small  fires  were  lighted.  Lander  was  watching 
the  silhouettes  pass  between  him  and  the  fires 
when  he  was  startled  to  hear  a  voice  near  his 
head  sigh,  "Alas,  m'sieur 

"Papa  Clair!"  he  softly  ejaculated. 

"Baptiste  Gardepied — talk  French?" 

Lander  eagerly  asked  in  French,  "'What  will 
they  do  with  me,  M'sieu  Gardepied?" 

"To-morrow.  It  will  be  very  sad  and  cniel. 
May  the  Old  Man  give  you  strength." 

"But  you  are  not  an  Indian.  What  do  you  do 
here?    Where  are  you?" 

"I  am  in  the  big  medicine-lodge.     My  mother 


IN  THE  MEDICINE  LODGE       231 

was  an  Arapaho,  my  father  a  French  trader.  The 
Arapahoes  are  friends  to  the  Blackfeet.  I  mar- 
ried a  Blackfoot  woman.  I  have  worked  at  Fort 
Union,  but  came  here  when  Deschamps  and  his 
rascal  sons  said  they  would  kill  me. 

"The  Blackfeet  say  it  was  Deschamps  who 
brought  them  down  on  you.  He  met  one  of  their 
scouts  and  said  he  would  make  a  smoke  signal 
to  show  your  camp." 

"Deschamps  ?  He  betrayed  me  to  the  Indians  ? 
He  was  guiding  Malcom  Phinny " 

"Ah,  M'sieii  Phinny !  He  is  one  bad  one.  He 
is  now  at  Fort  Union,  but  he  brought  much  news 
of  Bridger.  The  A.  F.  C.  do  not  like  M'sieu 
Bridger's  way  of  getting  the  beaver.  If  I  were 
M'sieu  Bridger  I  would  never  walk  ahead  of  a 
Deschamps  or  a  Rem." 

"But  if  Deschamps  betrayed  me,  then  Phinny 
betrayed  me,"  gasped  Lander. 

"But  why  not  ?  Does  M'sieu  Phinny  love  you  ? 
When  he  came  to  Fort  Union  he  was  quick  to  get 
thick  with  Deschamps.  It  Is  said  he  will  marry 
one  of  the  old  man's  wildcat  daughters  when  he 
returns  to  the  fort." 

"You  must  get  me  out  of  this,"  gritted  Lander. 

"It  is  my  life  if  they  know  I  cut  your  cords.    It 


232         KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

may  be  death  if  they  knew  I  was  in  the  medicine- 
tent.  Not  even  the  warriors  dare  come  in  here 
where  they  keep  the  sacred  bundles.  And  if  I 
cut  you  free  you  will  be  taken  again." 

"I  have  a  knife  in  my  boot.  I  know  how  to 
use  it.  I  can  die  fighting  and  not  at  the  hands 
of  a  squaw/' 

''PsstI    Be  quiet — some  one  comes." 

Lander  saw  the  figure  approaching  from  one 
of  the  fires.  The  man  dropped  at  his  side  and 
examined  his  bonds  and  made  sure  the  pegs  were 
holding.  Then  he  rose  and  with  a  guttural  excla- 
mation struck  the  prisoner  in  the  face.  He  hesi- 
tated after  the  blow,  muttered  fiercely,  then 
turned  back  to  the  fire. 

"Curse  him!"  panted  Ilander  through  his 
bloody  lips. 

"He  says  you  broke  his  nose/'  whispered  Gar- 
depied.  "And — well,  we  shall  see  what  we  shall 
see.  It  will  be  better  to  die  fighting,  of  course. 
Oh,  much  better!" 

"What  else  did  he  say?"  demanded  Uander. 

"He  spoke  of  the  green  rawhide  torture.  As 
it  dries  it  shrinks  and  holds  like  iron.  They  fasten 
the  stone  heads  on  their  war-clubs  with  it.  It  is 
all  too  cruel  to  talk  about.     I  am  part  Arapaho 


IN  THE  MEDICINE  LODGE       233 

— I  marry  a  Blackfoot  woman.    But  I  remember 
I  am  half  white. 

"Yes,  it  is  much  better  for  you  to  die  fighting, 
m'sieu.  The  white  blood  in  me  says  I  must  give 
you  that  chance." 

"Then  in  God's  mercy  cut  these  cords/'  panted . 
Lander,  beginning  a  useless  struggle. 

"What  would  you  have?  Death  now?  Wait 
a  bit.  I  must  leave  the  medicine-tent  and  go  to 
the  fire  and  show  myself  and  then  go  to  my 
lodge.  They  will  think  I  have  turned  in  for  the 
night. 

"Then  I  will  come  back  and  reach  from  under 
the  flap  of  the  tent  and  cut  your  arms  free.  I 
can  not  reach  your  legs,  but  you  say  you  have  a 
knife.  Use  it,  and  make  for  the  hole  through 
the  hills.  I  fear  you  will  not  get  far,  but  know- 
ing what  I  know,  you  will  have  much  to  thank 
Baptiste  Gardepied  for  when  you  go  down 
fighting." 

"Do  not  fail  me,"  mumbled  Lander. 

The  breed  no  longer  talked  and  Lander  knew 
the  medicine-lodge  was  empty.  He  closed  his 
eyes  and  fell  to  thinking  of  Susette.  Then  came 
thoughts  of  Papa  Clair,  his  friend;  of  Jim 
Bridger,  generous  and  kind. 


234        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

It  was  all  clear  to  him  now.  Phinny  had 
played  him  false,  and  had  planned  to  do  so  from 
the  start.  Porker  was  in  the  scheme,  and  Phinny 
had  killed  him  to  prevent  his  tattling  the  truth. 

Deschamps  had  joined  the  three  white  men 
and  it  was  his  hand  that  had  reached  from  the 
bushes  and  struck  Lander  senseless.  They  had 
left  him  tied  in  the  trail  for  the  Blackfeet  to  find 
and  kill  by  inches. 

The  groups  about  the  fires  sang  and  danced,  or 
listened  to  some  warrior  reciting  his  coups.  None 
of  the  squaws  ventured  near  the  prisoner ;  he  was 
being  saved  for  the  morrow's  sport.  At  regtilar 
intervals  a  brave  would  examine  his  bonds. 

He  waited  more  than  an  hour  for  Gardepied  to 
return;  then  exhaustion  overcame  him  and  he 
dozed.  He  was  always  conscious  of  the  thongs 
tugging  at  his  arms  and  legs,  and  yet  he  slept 
and  woke  up  and  slept  again.  After  one  troubled 
nap  he  opened  his  eyes  and  realized  he  had 
slumbered  for  some  time. 

Gray  mists  were  rising  from  the  pocket,  and 
the  tops  of  the  western  peaks  were  reflecting  the 
first  lights  of  dawn.  With  terrible  dismay  he 
realized  the  night  had  passed  and  that  Gardepied 
had  not  given  him  his  chance  to  die  fighting. 


IN  THE  MEDICINE  LODGE       235 

He  rolled  his  head  in  hope  of  glimpsing  the 
form  of  the  breed  stealthily  making  a  belated 
approach.  With  the  exception  of  a  dozen  guards, 
who  sat  muffled  in  their  blankets,  the  camp  still 
slept. 

As  Lander  rolled  his  head  from  side  to  side 
he  was  obsessed  by  the  absurd  fancy  that  a  bush 
moved  a  few  feet.  He  knew  this  was  his  imagina- 
tion, yet  he  marked  the  position  of  the  bush  well 
before  glancing  to  the  opposite  side. 

Once  more  he  saw  a  bush  glide  ahead.  The 
miracle  had  happened  on  his  right  and  left.  He 
darted  his  gaze  back  to  the  first  bush,  and  most 
surely  it  was  advancing,  or  else  he  was  out  of  his 
head.  Not  only  that  but  bushes  throughout  the 
level  floor  of  the  pocket  were  shifting  their 
positions. 

One  of  the  guards  let  his  blanket  fall  to  his 
loins  and  stared  earnestly  over  the  eastern  side  of 
the  pocket.  It  was  as  if  he  had  sensed  danger. 
As  the  chill  of  early  morning  struck  home  he 
gathered  the  blanket  about  him  and  by  degrees 
his  head  sank  on  his  chest  again. 

Lander  thrilled  in  anticipation  of  something 
about  to  happen.  The  floor  of  the  pocket  was 
dotted  with  isolated  clumps  of  bushes  and  those 


2z(>        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

growing"  singly.  On  both  the  west  and  east  the 
miracle  was  being  repeated  and  bushes  advanced 
closer  about  the  camp  circle. 

It  came  as  soft  as  the  murmuring  of  the  morn- 
ing breeze. 

Lander  shook  his  head  to  show  he  was  awake. 

"Do  not  move  when  I  cut  the  thong,"  came 
the  warning. 

Then  the  horrible  drag  on  his  right  arm 
ceased,  and  he  no  longer  felt  as  if  it  were  being 
pulled  from  the  socket.  And,  oh,  the  luxury  of 
feeling  it  relax — of  feeling  the  blood  prickling 
through  the  veins  to  revive  the  benumbed  hand ! 
It  required  all  his  will  power  to  refrain  from  flex- 
ing the  muscles  and  hugging  the  outraged  limb 
to  his  side. 

But  the  guard  was  out  of  his  blanket  again  and 
staring  curiously  over  the  plain.  It  seemed  ages 
before  he  slipped  back  into  his  blanket.  Then  the 
heavenly  relaxation  of  his  left  arm  marked  the 
completion  of  Gardepied's  charity,  or  response  to 
the  call  of  his  white  blood. 

Working  his  fingers  until  he  had  ousted  the 
prickly  sensation,  Lander  darted  his  right  hand 
to  his  boot  and  pulled  his  knife.    Rising  and  bend- 


The  bushes  move!"  gasped  the  breed. 


IN  THE  MEDICINE  LODGE       237 

ing  half  double,  he  slashed  twice  and  la}r  back, 
his  legs  free. 

"Napi,  the  Old  Man,  help  tis!  The  bushes 
move!"  gasped  the  voice  of  the  breed. 

A  guard  rose  up,  threw  aside  his  blanket  and 
stared  sharply  over  the  plain.  Something  caught 
his  attention  and  he  bent  forward  to  scrutinize  it 
more  closely. 

He  straightened  and  threw  back  his  head,  but 
the  streak  through  the  air,  beginning  at  the  near- 
est bush  and  ending  in  his  throat,  permitted  only 
a  gasping,  gurgling  cry  to  escape  his  lips.  How- 
ever, another  guard  saw  him  fall  with  the  arrow 
through  his  neck  and  yelled  an  alarm. 

Instantly  the  bushes  rose  in  the  air,  revealing 
human  forms  beneath  them — ^warriors  with 
bushes  tied  to  their  heads.  A  cloud  of  arrows 
hissed  into  camp  and  stung  the  sleepers,  biting 
several  to  death;  and  the  hoarse  war-cry  of  the 
Crows  completed  the  camp's  dismay.  On  the 
west  side  of  the  pocket  commenced  the  same  mode 
of  attack^  while  down  at  the  mouth  of  the  narrow 
canon  sounded  the  loud  battle  yell  of  white  men. 

With  a  backward  squirm  Lander  gained  the 
side  of  the  medicine-lodge  and  raising  a  flap 
rolled  inside.     He  heard  a  noise  on  the  opposite 


238         KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

side  of  the  lodge,  but  could  see  nothing  as  the 
interior  of  the  place  was  piled  high  with  packs. 
Passing  round  the  barrier  he  saw  a  flap  fall  in 
place,  and  peering  out  beheld  the  breed  running 
north  and  away  from  the  fighting. 

Returning  to  the  south  side  of  tTie  lodge,  Lan- 
der cut  a  slit  in  the  wall  and  beheld  the  camp  in 
an  uproar.  The  surprise  attack  had  for  a  few 
minutes  thrown  the  Blackfeet  into  a  panic.  Now 
they  were  recovering  their  morale.  Some  rushed 
to  gather  in  the  horses,  but  were  beaten  back  by 
many  arrows.  On  both  sides  the  Crows  began  to 
increase  the  pressure. 

The  Blackfeet  in  two  long  lines  faced  in  two 
directions.  Their  chief  rode  up  and  down 
between  the  lines,  exhorting  his  men  to-  die  like 
warriors.  The  squaws,  very  demons,  rushed 
back  and  forth,  bringing  fresh  quivers,  or  darting 
out  and  dragging  their  wounded  tribesmen  inside 
the  lines. 

The  Crows  were  now  on  the  ground,  still 
masked  by  the  bushes.  The  Blackfeet  ceased  to 
fall  back.  One  line  suddenly  rushed  ahead,  and 
Lander's  heart  jumped  violently  as  he  beheld  the 
front  of  the  bushes  drawing  back.  But  before 
the  Blackfeet  could  score  any  advantage  a  flying 


IN  THE  MEDICINE  LODGE       239 

mass  of  trappers  struck  the  tips  of  the  double 
Hues,  their  rifles  and  pistols  reechoing  viciously. 

Some  of  the  squaws  managed  to  bring  up  a 
few  horses  at  the  risk  of  their  lives,  and  warriors 
mounted  these  and  rode  down  to  slow  up  the 
advance  of  the  whites.  One  old  hag  with  her 
gray  hair  streaming  in  the  morning  breeze  remem- 
bered the  prisoner,  and  with  eldritch  shrieks 
darted  around  the  medicine-lodge  with  a  knife  in 
her^  skinny  hand  and  dropped  on  her  knees  and 
raised  the  blade.  She  stared  at  the  empty  ground 
stupidly,  then  cried  out  with  such  malignant 
intensity  as  to  make  Lander's  blood  curdle. 

Other  women  rushed  up.  Lander  passed  to 
the  other  side  of  the  tent,  thinking  to  escape,  but 
found  the  Blackfeet  in  retreating  had  cut  him  off. 
The  big  lodge  occupied  the  middle  of  the  battle- 
ground and  was  now  entirely  surrounded.  Turn- 
ing to  the  packs  and  working  with  desperate 
vigor,  Lander  rearranged  them  in  a  high  breast- 
work around  him.  As  he  finished  the  barricade 
the  lodge  coverings  began  to  vanish  as  mounted 
horsemen  paused  long  enough  to  salvage  the 
sacred  hides. 

An  Indian  with  a  swollen  nose  glimpsed  Lan- 
der's head  disappearing  behind  the  packs,   and 


240        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

with  a  howl  of  fury  dimbed  up  the  barrier,  a  war- 
ax  in  his  hand.  For  a  few  seconds  the  brave  en- 
dured the  white  man's  masterly  knife-play,  chop- 
ping ineffectively,  then  went  down  at  the  foot  of 
the  barricade  and  dreamed  no  more  of  battle. 

Others  of  the  Blackfeet  had  witnessed  the  brief 
duel,  but  there  was  none  who  had  time  to  attack 
the  prisoner.  Now  that  his  hiding-place  was  dis- 
covered Lander  recklessly  showed  himself  and 
waved  his  arms  and  yelled: 

"Papa  Clair!    Jim  Bridger!    Jim  Baker!" 

"God  is  good  !'*  cried  Papa  Clair,  swerving  his 
horse  between  two  bucks  and  making  for  the  stack 
of  packs.  He  rode  with  the  reins  in  his  teeth, 
almost  with  his  knees  in  the  saddle,  a  knife  in  each 
hand.  And  as  he  pressed  forward  he  leaned  far 
to  right  and  left,  his  terrible  knives  etching  a  red 
trail.  Emboldened  by  the  coming  of  the  whites, 
the  Crows  threw  aside  their  head-coverings  of 
bushes  and  advanced  more  boldly. 

The  Blackfeet  were  now  awake  to  their  danger 
and  fought  a  vicious  rear-guard  action.  Their 
chief  was  among  the  last  to  fall  back.  He  kept 
taunting  his  enemies^  and  as  his  words  were  heard 
the  Crows  slightly  lessened  the  impetuosity  of 
their  advance. 


IN  THE  MEDICINE  LODGE       241 

Papa  Clair  leaped  from  his  horse,  joined  Lan- 
der behind  the  packs  and  interpreted :  "The  chief 
is  telling  us  that  there  are  eight  hundred  Black- 
feet  a  short  distance  north  of  here,  that  they  will 
soon  come  and  give  tis  all  the  fight  we  want." 

"This  crowd  is  licked!"  joyously;  cried  Lan- 
der, hardly  able  to  realize  the  sudden  change  in 
his  fortunes. 

"They're  falling  back  in  good  order,"  corrected 
Papa  Clair.  "They  even  took  the  hide  coverings 
of  this,  their  medicine-lodge.  By  this  time  they've 
seen  we  have  only,  thirty  white  men  and  that  our 
Crows  are  losing  stomach.  We  can't  drive  them 
far.  Ah,  hear  the  Crows !  They've  found  the  feet 
and  hands  of  their  people.  The  Blackfeet  sur- 
prised a  small  party  of  Black  Arrow's  scouts  and 
cut  off  their  limbs.  The  Crows  were  on  the  trail 
when  we  overtook  them. 

•  ^'M'sieu  Phinny  and  Deschamps  brought  us 
word  of  being  attacked ;  of  you  and  Porker  being 
killed.  M'sieii  Baker  had  just  come  from  the 
Snake  camp.    We  came  with  what  force  we  had." 

"Where's  Phinny  and  Deschamps?"  asked 
Lander. 

"Eh  ?  Who  knows  ?  I  gave  them  no  thought 
once  we  got  word  you  were  killed." 


Chapter  X 


AT  FORT  UNION 


BRIDGER  galloped  up  and  silently  wrung 
Lander  by  the  hand.  Jim  Baker,  intoxi- 
cated with  joy,  waved  a  big  knife  and  yelled  for 
Lander  to  catch  a  horse  and  join  in  the  pursuit. 
But  Bridger  began  shouting : 

"We  must  turn  back.  There  is  a  large  party 
of  Blackfeet  near  here.  The  old  chief  did  not 
lie.  We've  got  our  man.  Round  up  their  horses. 
Land  of  hfe!    What's  these  packs?" 

For  the  first  time  he  noticed  the  nature  of 
Lander's  barricade.    Lander  explained : 

"I  think  they're  the  forty  packs  the  Blackfeet 
took  from  Ferguson,  the  H.  B.  man.  If  he  is 
here  he  can  tell  them." 

"I'm  glad  to  say  he  isn't  here,"  said  Bridger. 

He  quickly  examined  a  pack  and  announced: 

"The  H.  B.  pelts  sure  enough.  Ferguson's 
mark  is  on  'em.  Rustle  for  horses,  boys;  we'll 
242 


AT  FORT  UNION  243 

use  the  mules  for  packing  these  to  camp.  Papa 
Clair,  you  and  Lander  see  to  loading  them.  I 
must  crowd  the  fighting  a  little  more.  Git  after 
'em,  Jim  Baker.  Give  'em  their  needin's,  men. 
Take  the  fight  out  of  them.  We  must  have  time 
to  load  forty  packs  of  prime  beaver." 

"Ain't   that   younker's    medicine   all    , 

Jim?"  bawled  Baker  as  he  dashed  away  to  force 
the  fighting. 

Under  Papa  Clair's  direction  Lander  and  a 
score  of  Crows  rounded  up  what  horses  were  not 
yet  captured.  The  Crows  had  left  their  own  ani- 
mals outside  the  pocket,  and  now  once  more  in 
the  saddle  they  attacked  the  retreating  enemy 
more  confidently,  their  big  bows  twanging  out 
the  death  sentence.  And  as  they  formed  in  a  long 
line  across  the  pocket  the  trappers  fell  back  and 
exchanged  their  mules  for  ponies. 

As  fast  as  the  mules  were  brought  to  him  Papa 
Clair  superintended  the  loading  of  them — two 
hundred  pounds  to  each  animal — and  worked  as 
serenely  as  he  would  have  in  the  big  camp.  In 
short  time  the  cavalcade  began  retiring  toward 
the  cafion ;  the  trappers  coming  next  with  a  screen 
of  Crows  to  discourage  counter-attacks. 

The  Blackfeet  had  lost  virtually  all  their  stock 


244        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

and  were  poorly  situated  for  taking*  the  offensive. 
Bridger  called  out  to  Black  Arrow  that  he  and  his 
braves  should  have  the  bulk  of  the  horses,  but 
the  chief  seemed  more  interested  in  securing  the 
poles  of  the  medicine-lodge.  The  poles  were 
lashed  to  ponies  in  form  of  a  travois  and  on  them 
was  piled  a  miscellany  of  camp  equipment.  Jim 
Baker  viewed  the  poles  with  considerable  rever- 
ence and  confided  to  Lander  they  were  better 
medicine  than  all  the  horses  and  pelts. 

The  escape  from  the  pocket  was  made  without 
any  confusion,  but  once  the  mules  were  through 
the  narrow  opening  the  Blackfeet  made  a  vigor- 
ous charge,  knowing  the  Crows  must  pass  through 
the  exit  in  a  mass.  Bridger  wheeled  about  and 
led  his  mounted  riflemen  in  a  wild  charge,  and 
scattered  and  drove  the  enemy  to  the  end  of  the 
pocket.  This  time  the  Blackfeet  decided  they  had 
had  enough  of  fighting  and  contented  themselves 
with  climbing  the  surrounding  heights  and  mak- 
ing many  smoke  signals. 

Since  taking  refuge  in  the  medi'cine-lodge  Lan- 
der had  seen  nothing  of  Gardepied.  None  of  the 
trappers  had  seen  him  during  the  fight.  Once 
back  on  the  Green  the  horses  were  given  to  the 
Crows  after  Bridger  had  taken  one  for  each  of 


[A.T  FORT  UNION  245 

his  men.  As  there  were  some  three  hundred  ani- 
mals, all  in  prime  condition,  the  Crows'  sorrow 
over  the  fate  of  their  tribesmen  was  somewhat 
assuaged. 

"You  shall  receive  something  worth  while  from 
the  sale  of  the  beaver,"  Bridger  informed  Lander. 

"Good  lord!  I'm  satisfied  with  receiving  my; 
life  back,'*  shuddered  Lander.  "I  shall  never! 
forget  the  women.    They  were  terrible." 

"Leave  it  to  me  to  fix  the  terms.  An'  speak- 
ing of  women^  when  a  man  marries  he  likes  to 
have  something  besides  high  hopes.  Wq  must 
show  our  heels  a  bit  faster,  boys." 

"You  think  they'll  be  following  us?"  asked 
Lander  anxiously,  thinking  of  the  chief's  threat 
to  bring  eight  hundred  men. 

"They'll  follow  when  they  can.  What  worries 
me  is  two  white  men — not  the  Black  foot  nation. 
I  don't  like  the  notion  of  having  left  Phinny  and 
Ferguson  in  camp  together." 

As  they  rode  down  the  river  Lander  related  his 
experience  to  Bridger  and  insisted  Phinny  and 
Porker  had  planned  his  death. 

"Don't  doubt  it,"  coolly  agreed  Bridger.  "But 
Porker's  dead  an'  we  can't  prove  anything  on 
Phinny.    Treat  him  just  as  if  you  didn't  suspect 


245        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

nothing.  Time  enough  to  pay  him  up  after  we  git 
these  packs  to  St  Louis." 

When  the  band  arrived  at  the  rendezvous  they 
found  the  Snakes  and  Nez  Perces  had  flocked  in 
to  fight  their  anci'ent  enemy  if  necessaiy.  Phinny 
and  Ferguson  had  departed.  They  had  traded 
with  Nez  Perces  for  some  crippled  ponies  and 
some  mules  and  had  packed  the  buffalo-robes  on 
these. 

They  had  started  for  Fort  Union,  having  hired 
a  score  of  the  Nez  Perces  to  act  as  body-guard 
until  in  the  heart  of  the  Crow  country.  With  the 
Nez  Perces  supplementing  the  Indians  and  breeds 
Phinny  had  brought  with  him,  he  would  stand  in 
no  danger  of  an  attack  unless  he  encounted  an 
overwhelming  force. 

The  fact  that  Ferguson  had  gone  wi'th  Phinny 
was  very  disquieting  to  Bridger.  He  immediately 
called  Baker,  Papa  Clair,  Long  Simons  and  Lan- 
der to  his  tent  and  tersely  explained  the  situation. 
In  conclusion  he  said: 

"Ferguson  has  gone  back  on  his  bargain  to 
winter  in  the  Crow  country  for  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tain Fur  Company.  Phinny  has  offered  him  a 
good  position  with  the  A.  F.  C. 

"Ferguson  will  be  sure  to  tell  McKenzie  how 


[AT  FORT  UNION  247 

he  lost  his  furs  to  the  Blackfeet  and  o£  his  deal 
with  me.  McKenzie  has  an  old  man,  Jake  Ber- 
ger,  for  a  hunter.  Berger  used  to  work  for  the 
H.  B.  at  their  North  Saskatchewan  post — Fort 
of  the  Prairie.  He  got  well  acquainted  with  the 
Blackfeet,  who  carried  their  trade  there.  He  is 
the  one  white  man  on  the  Missouri  that  can  go 
to  the  butcher-shop  and  stand  a  chance  of  bring- 
ing his  hair  home. 

"McKenzie  will  be  sure  to  send  him  up  the 
Missouri  to  dicker  for  the  forty  packs.  As  soon 
as  Berger  strikes  any  Blackfeet  he'll  learn  about 
this  fight  and  the  loss  of  the  packs. 

"Now  this  is  what  we  must  do :  I  must  reach 
Fort  Union  and  buy  a  keelboat  and  have  it  ready 
for  a  flying  start  from  the  mouth  of  the  Yaller- 
stone  before  McKenzie  can  hear  we  captured  the 
packs.  So  I  will  go  ahead  with  Eander.  As  we 
shall  go  down  the  Big  Horn  we'll  have  the  Crows 
for  company  most  of  the  trip. 

"Papa  Clair  with  a  dozen  men  will  bring  the 
pack  mules  through  the  mountains  to  the  Big 
Horn,  where  he  will  make  bull-boats  and  fetch 
the  packs  down  to  the  Yallerstone  by  water.  He 
must  arrive  at  night  so's  he  can  hide  up  the  boats 
if  I  ain't  all  ready  with  the  keelboat.     When  he 


248        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

takes  to  the  water  Long  Simons  will  bring"  the 
mules  hack  here. 

*'Baker  will  stay  here  and  split  the  men  into 
small  bands  and  send  them  to  their  beaver 
grounds.  Once  I  git  the  packs  into  a  keelboat 
I'm  off  for  Fort  Pierre,  where  I'll  turn  'em  over 
to  Etienne  Prevost  to  take  down  to  St.  Louis. 

"Lander  will  go  with  Prevost,  an'  I  shall  come 
back  here.  I've  made  a  square  deal  for  the  packs 
an'  I'm  going  to  take  the  profit.  Now,  Lander, 
pick  a  good  horse  while  I  have  a  talk  with  Black 
Arrow." 

Half  an  hour  later  Bridger  and  Lander, 
escorted  by  a  band  of  Crows,  started  for  the  Mis- 
souri. Bridger  allowed  himself  twelve  days  for 
making  the  Big  Horn.  Traversing  South  Path 
they  struck  the  Sweetwater  but  followed  it  only 
for  a  short  distance  before  striking  off  for  Wind 
River,  an  upper  reach  of  the  Big  Horn  above  the 
mouth  of  the  Popo-agie. 

They  were  now  in  the  Crow  country  and  did 
not  have  much  fear  of  being  molested.  Follow- 
ing down  the  Big  Horn  Valley  they  saw  no 
Indians  except  those  of  their  party  until  within 
one  day's  journey  of  the  Yellowstone,  when  they 
came  upon  four  hundred  lodges  of  Crows. 


AT  FORT  UNION  249 

Black  Arrow  insisted  they  tarry  and  have  a 
feast.  He  was  very  keen  for  his  tribesmen  to 
witness  Medicine  Knife's  dexterity.  But  Bridger 
did  not  dare  to  pause  for  fear  of  arriving  at  Fort 
Union  after  Berger  had  brought  news  of  the 
fight  and  packs  to  Kenneth  McKenzie. 

Some  of  the  leading  men  showed  a  disposition 
to  prevent  Bridger  from  proceeding,  and  began 
to  act  ugly.  But  Black  Arrow  was  a  man  of 
influence,  and  when  his  men  had  displayed  their 
wealth  of  Blackfeet  scalps  and  told  how  many 
horses  and  scalps  were  to  arrive^  the  white  men 
were  allowed  to  go  on. 

Bridger  had  expected  Black  Arrow  to  keep  with 
him  to  the  mouth  of  the  Yellowstone,  but  the 
chief  could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  cross  to 
the  village  and  participate  in  the  great  victory 
dance.  In  return  for  many  trade  goods  to  be 
delivered  later  the  chief  promised  that  none  of  his 
people  would  interfere  with  Papa  Clair  and  his 
beaver  packs. 

Bridger  nearly  exhausted  his  companions  in 
the  short  dash  for  the  Yellowstone.  He  feared 
lest  the  Crows  attempt  some  mischief,  not  vio- 
lence but  the  theft  of  their  weapons  or  horses. 
However,  nothing  occurred  to  disturb  them,  and 


250        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

except  for  their  haste  Lander  would  have  enjoyed 
the  trip  immensely. 

The  valley  teemed  with  game  and  the  traveling 
was  easy.  Reaching  the  confluence  of  the  Big 
Horn  and  YeIk>wstone,  Bridger  chose  the  south, 
or  right,  bank,  and  without  any  unusual  incidents 
pressed  on  until  he  had  crossed  the  Rosebud  and 
Tongue,  when  he  passed  to  the  north  side  of  the 
river. 

"What  would  happen  if  the  Fort  Union  outfit 
learned  we  had  the  H.  B.  packs?"  asked  Lander 
on  the  last  day  of  their  trip. 

Bridger  chuckled  grimly  and  replied : 

"We  wouldn't  have  'em  long  if  Kenneth 
McKenzie  could  help  it.  An'  he's  the  king  up 
here.  He'd  never  let  forty  packs  of  prime  beaver 
slip  through  his  hands  like  that.  He'd  buy  'em, 
or  take  'em. 

"He'd  show  a  paper  from  Ferguson,  naming 
him,  agent  for  the  H.  B.  He'd  show  a  paper 
saying  as  how  he  had  bought  all  title  to  'em,  with 
Ferguson  signing  it  as  the  H.  B.'s  representative. 
If  we  held  out  he'd  charge  us  with  stealing  'em 
an'  lock  us  up  until  the  beaver  was  under  lock  an' 
key,  or  on  the  way  down-river. 

"If  we  went  into  court  in  St.  Louis  an'  proved 


AT  FORT  UNION  251 

our  claim  the  A.  F.  C.  would  pay  the  price,  minus 
the  H.  B.'s  ten  per  cent.  The  A.  F.  C.  has  more 
power  up  here  with  the  Injuns  than  the  govern- 
ment has.  So  we  must  git  the  keelboat  an'  load 
it  an'  be  off  down-river  the  minute  the  packs 
come  along. 

''Don't  you  open  your  meat-trap  while  at  the 
fort.  Keep  shet.  Above  all  things  don't  start  a 
row  with  Phinny.  Warm  up  to  him  an'  tell  how 
glad  you  be  he  escaped. 

"Don't  wander  away  from  the  fort  where  old 
Deschamps  can  git  a  crack  at  you.  I'll  do  all  the 
talking,  an'  I  won't  seem  to  be  in  a  hurry  or  look 
fussed  up  any.  Kenneth  McKenzie  is  a  mighty 
hard  man  to  fool." 

By  late  afternoon  they  made  the  mouth  of  the 
Yellowstone.  The  channel  was  narrow  and  the 
water  was  low  and  they  had  no  trouble  in  swim- 
ming their  horses  across  to  the  north  side  of  the 
Missouri.  As  they  rode  up  the  bank  and  came  in 
sight  of  the  solid  pretentious  structure  of  Fort 
Union,  more  persistently  and  intimately  con- 
nected with  the  fur  trade  than  any  other  post, 
Bridger  whimsically  remarked : 

"You're  almost  eighteen  hundred  channel  miles 
from  the  little  lady  in  St.  Louis,  an*  whether  you 


252         KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

see  her  soon  or  go  back  to  the  mountains  depends 
on  how  strong  your  medicine  works  for  you  while 
we're  up  there." 

He  pointed  to  the  fort  as  he  spoke.  And  even 
to  Lander,  fresh  from  St.  Louis,  the  fort  seemed 
to  reflect  the  indomitable  will  and  iron  power  of 
the  mighty  American  Fur  Company,  against 
which  all  opposition  was  waged  and  which  was  to 
destroy  or  absorb  all  opponents. 

The  stockade  measured  more  than  two  hundred 
feet  on  a  side,  with  the  bastions  at  the  southwest 
and  northeast  corners.  These  bastions  were 
houses  thirty  feet  in  height,  built  of  stone  with 
the  lower  story  pierced  for  cannon,  and  with  a 
balcony  around  the  upper  story  for  the  purpose  of 
observation.  The  two  travelers  saw  men  on  the 
northeast  balcony,  presumably  watching  them,  for 
one  hastily  disappeared  as  if  to  announce  their 
coming. 

Bridger  gravely  watched  the  lone  man  on  the 
balcony  for  a  few  moments;  then  with  a  shrug 
of  the  shoulders  he  assumed  his  careless,  good- 
natured  and  devil-may-care  expression  and  rode 
for  the  single  gate.  An  engage  was  on  the  point 
of  closing  this,  but  waited  until  they  had  entered. 

In  the  middle  of  the  huge  square  stood  a  sev- 


AT  FORT  UNION  253 

enty-foot  flagstaff,  and  beside  it  were  two  cannon 
trained  to  cover  the  entrance.  Surrounding  the 
staff  were  the  leather  tents  of  the  half-breed 
employees.  At  the  rear  of  the  square  and  facing 
the  entrance  stood  the  two-story  house  of  Ken- 
neth McKenzie,  first  king  of  the  Missouri  and 
the  greatest  bourgeois  the  A.  F.  C.  ever  had. 

The  house,  like  the  other  buildings  inside  the 
enclosure,  was  built  of  cottonwood.  It  boasted 
glass  windows.  Lander  blinked  in  surprise.  He 
had  heard  much  about  Fort  Union  in  St.  Louis, 
but  was  never  able  to  draw  an  accurate  line 
between  fact  and  fiction.  The  powder-magazine, 
built  of  cut  stone  and  having  a  capacity — as 
Bridger  afterward  informed  him — of  fifty  thous- 
and pounds,  also  increased  his  respect  for  his  for- 
mer employer. 

There  were  well-equipped  shops  for  the  smith 
and  carpenter  and  other  workmen.  There  was 
an  atmosphere  of  stability  about  the  place.  No 
wonder  the  Indians  were  slow  to  shift  their  alle- 
giance to  the  flimsy  post  erected  by  the  opposi- 
tion, who  in  the  river  argot  were  known  as  one- 
winter-house  traders. 

*T'm  Jim  Bridger.  I  want  to  see  Mr.  McKen- 
zie," Bridger  told  the  engage. 


254        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"He  is  sitting-  down  to  supper,  Mr.  Bri'dger. 
Places  liave  been  laid  for  you,"  said  the  engage. 
He  called  a  breed  to  take  care  of  the  horses  and 
led  the  way  inside  the  fort 

Here  again  the  travelers  found  all  the  conve- 
niences they  would  expect  in  the  average  inn  back 
in  civilization.  As  they  were  leaving  the  wash- 
room the  man  joined  them  with  two  black  coats, 
and  apologetically  informed: 

"Mr.  McKenzie's  rule  that  every  one  shall  wear 
a  coat  at  the  table,  Mr.  Bridger.  I  haven't  any 
doubt  but  what  he  would  let  the  rule  go  hang  in 
your  case^  but  if  you  don't  mind  slipping  this 
on " 

"We'll  be  glad  to  wear  'em,"  cheerfully  inter- 
rupted Bridger. 

They  were  then  conducted  to  the  long  room 
where  McKenzie  and  his  staff  had  their  meals. 
McKenzie  left  the  head  of  the  table  and  greeted 
Bridger  warmly.  He  spared  a  nod  for  Lander, 
but  retaining  Bridger's  hand  exclaimed : 

"If  I'd  had  any  notion  it  was  you,  Mr.  Bridger, 
I  should  have  rode  to  the  river  to  meet  you.  Sit 
here  at  my  right.  Let  the  young  man  find  a 
place  among  the  clerks,"  and  he  pointed  to  the 
foot  of  the  table. 


:^T  FORT  UNION  255 

Here  was  a  greater  caste  distinction  than  Lan- 
der would  have  experienced  in  any  household  in 
St.  Louis.  The  men  were  seated  according  to 
the  rank  of  their  occupation,  and  Susette's  lover 
found  himself  decidedly  below  the  salt  and  in  the 
company  of  several  harum-scarum  youngsters 
going  through  their  probation. 

McKenzie  was  dressed  in  the  St.  Louis  mode, 
and  there  was  nothing  in  his  carefully  groomed 
and  well-garbed  appearance  that  could  suggest 
the  eighteen  hundred  miles  between  him  and  a 
civilized  table.  It  would  be  several  years  before 
there  would  be  even  a  rough  settlement  of  whites 
above  Independence. 

What  made  an  instant  appeal  to  Lander  and 
caused  him  to  forget  he  was  treated  as  being  at 
par  with  the  least  of  the  staff  was  sight  of  the 
food.  There  were  platters  heaped  high  with 
tender,  fat  buffalo-meat.  There  were  dishes  of 
game  birds  and  plenty  of  fresh  butter,  cream  and 
milk. 

However,  and  this  was  the  only  suggestion  of 
stinting,  there  were  only  two  biscuits  at  a  plate. 
For  although  Fort  Union  might  for  a  time  run 
its  own  distillery  in  defiance  of  the  law  its  bread 
ration  remained  something  of  a  problem.    To  add 


256        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

the  final  glamour  to  the  feast  was  the  snow-white 
cloth  covering  the  table  and  the  two  colored  men 
in  white  jackets  serving"  as  waiters. 

From  the  low  chatter  of  his  immediate  neigh- 
bors Lander  learned  more  details  of  how  McKen- 
zie  played*  the  dictator  on  the  Upper  Missouri. 
Being  fond  of  lingering  over  his  wine  he  went 
to  bed  late.  It  was  late  when  he  arose,  and, 
worst  of  all,  no  one  could  have  breakfast  until  he 
was  up  and  ready  to  be  served.  So  the  morning 
meal  was  seldom  eaten  earlier  than  nine  o'clock. 

From  the  clerks'  babbling  Lander  deduced  that 
Phinny  had  never  mentioned  him  at  the  fort.  He 
was  glad  of  this.  He  casually  spoke  of  seeing 
Phinny  at  the  rendezvous  and  was  elated  and 
much  surprised  to  be  informed  that  his  old  enemy 
had  not  yet  returned  from  Green  River.  To  get 
there  ahead  of  Phinny  impressed  him  as  being 
the  best  of  luck. 

He  talked  shop  with  the  young  men  and 
learned  that  the  early  fall  was  the  time  for  the 
jerked  meat  and  tallow  trade,  the  Indians  taking 
hardly  anything  but  liquor  for  this  trade. 

"But  wait  till  old  Berger  fixes  things  with  the 
Blackfeet,"  said  one  clerk.  "Chief  Good-Woman 
used  to  know  him  on  the  Saskatchewan  and  Ber- 


AT  FORT  UNION  257 

ger's  up  there  now,  somewheres  on  the  Marias. 
Berger's  to  be  paid  eight  hundred  dollars  a  year 
if  he  gets  the  Blackfeet  to  consent  to  our  building 
a  trading  post  on  the  Marias. 

"You  were  lucky  to  get  here  without  being 
robbed.  A  canoe  band  of  Assiniboins,  worst  of 
that  tribe  and  greatest  thieves  ever  lived,  started 
for  the  Crow  county  to  steal  horses.  Don't  see 
how  you  missed  them." 

But  Lander  was  now  all  ears  for  the  upper  end 
of  the  table.    McKenzie  was  saying: 

"Mr.  Bridger,  here  at  Union  alone  last  win- 
ter we  made  four  hundred  and  sixty  packs  of 
robes,  and  other  peltries  in  proportion.  Our  out- 
posts sent  in  thirty-five  hundred  pounds  of  pow- 
dered buffalo-meat  and  three  thousand  pounds  of 
dried.  Our  run  of  fox  was  remarkable.  Lamont 
and  his  men  alone  brought  us  forty-two  hundred 
buffalo-robes  from  up-river." 

Bridger  kept  on  eating  and  nodded  in  approval. 
At  last  he  took  time  to  say : 

"Fine  if  any  one  goes  in  for  robes.  I  never 
bother  with  'em.  I  sold  your  young  man  quite 
a  few  packs.  Took  his  order  on  St.  Louis  for 
'em.     Don't  see  him  here." 

McKenzie  looked  surprised  and  asked  to  see 


258        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

the  order.  Bridger  produced  it  and  the  nabob 
of  the  river  read  it  carefully;  then  gravely 
informed : 

"Perfectly  correct,  Mr.  Bridger.  I  gave  him 
authority  to  draw  orders  on  St.  Louis  in  case  a 
man  isn't  coming  here.  Had  he  known  you  were 
coming  to  Fort  Union  he  would  have  left  the 
order  for  me  to  draw. 

"I'm  glad  to  have  you  turn  the  robes  in  to  us. 
We  deal  in  a  big  way.  I'll  get  ten  thousand  robes 
from  the  Blackfeet  next  season. 

"When  I  sent  A.  J.  Tulloch  to  the  Crows  I  told 
him  to  get  them  into  the  habit  of  trading — to 
trade  them  for  anything  they  had.  He  went  to 
the  Yellowstone  and  some  of  his  men  were  killed 
by  a  war-party  of  Blackfeet  while  they  were 
chopping  wood. 

"He  stuck  and  traded  the  Crows.  His  first 
returns  made  our  men  here  laugh  until  they  were 
sick.  Hardly  anything  but  elk  and  deer  horns. 
Yet  his  trade  on  the  whole  was  profitable  because 
the  A.  F.  C.  can  handle  anything.  That's  why 
the  Indians  like  us;  we'll  trade  for  anything 
they've  got." 

"Phinny  isn't  here." 

"You  must  have  passed  him.    Probably  he  was 


AT  FORT  UNION  259 

resting"  at  the  Crow  village  and  arranging*  for  the 
winter  trade.  I'm  glad  to  get  the  robes.  Any 
time  you  have  any  we'll  take  them." 

"I  don't  care  to  bother  with  'em/'  Bridger  care- 
lessly assured.     "All  I'm  after  is  beaver." 

"We  do  quite  a  bit  with  beaver,  and  we  shall 
do  more.  My  man,  Jacob  Berger,  is  up  visiting 
the  Piegans.  They're  the  best  beaver-hunters 
among  the  Blackfeet,  and  as  the  opposition  hasn't 
taken  all  the  beaver  above  Milk  River  I'm  expect- 
ing rather  good  returns  from  there." 

**When  does  Berger  git  back  ?" 

"Any  time  now." 

"You'll  be  the  first  to  git  into  their  good 
feelings,"  said  Bridger  with  a  genial  smile.  "By 
the  way,  do  you  happen  to  have  a  keelboat  in  your 
chantier  (navy  yard)  ?  I'd  like  to  buy  it  if  you 
have.  I'll  give  a  St.  Louis  order  for  it.  It'll 
help  cancel  my  order  on  you." 

"Our  chantier  is  twenty-five  miles  up-river, 
you  know,"  slowly  replied  McKenzIe,  trying  to 
imagine  why  Bridger,  arriving  without  packs, 
should  want  a  keelboat. 

"I  don't  know  just  what  we  have  there,  or 
what  condition  it  may  be  in.  I  might  be  willing 
to  sell  one.     Of  course  we  have  use  for  all  our 


26o        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

boats,  but  rd  like  to  oblige  you,  as  you'll  some 
time  be  working  for  the  A.  F.  C.  Yes,  Mr.  Brid- 
ger,  I'd  go  out  of  my  way  to  oblige  you." 

"Mighty  handsome  of  you,"  declared  Bridger, 
spearing  a  half-pound  piece  of  meat.  "IVe  got 
one  down  at  Fort  Pierre.  Seeing  as  how  I  must 
go  down-river  I  thought  I'd  take  it  there  to  be 
loaded  with  any  packs  we  may  be  sending  across- 
country.  We  usually  pack  'em  into  St.  Louis  on 
our  mules.  Etienne  Prevost  is  there  at  Pierre 
waiting  for  me. 

**0f  course  he  can  make  bull-boats  if  it  comes 
to  a  pinch.  An'  then  again  we  mayn't  need 
another  boat.  But  I'd  like  to  feel  sure.  Can  use 
it  anyway." 

**Why  not  come  in  with  us?"  bluntly  asked 
McKenzie. 

"Mebbe  I  will.  I'm  hitched  up  pretty  tight  just 
now,  but  with  no  settled  posts  to  hold  us  together 
I  may  be  free  before  next  season.  Mighty  nice 
place  you  got  here." 

"I  pride  myself  on  it,  sir.  We  do  not  chase 
the  Indians.  They  must  bring  their  hunt  to  us. 
They  fight  among  themselves  but  they  never 
bother  us.  Big  war-parties  are  always  coming 
here.     Sometimes  they  meet  and  fight  outside. 


AT  FORT  UNION  261 

Sometimes  they  send  word  for  us  to  keep  in  the 
fort  so  we  won't  be  hurt. 

"Old  Gauche,  the  most  feared  and  best  obeyed 
chief  of  the  Assiniboins  for  forty  years,  stopped 
here  yesterday  on  his  way  from  down-river  where 
he  went  to  put  a  fight  on  the  Aricaras.  His  med- 
icine must  have  lied  to  him  as  he  was  soundly 
whipped.  He's  had  enough  fighting  for  a  while 
and  promised  to  bring  me  in  two  hundred  robes. 

"Rather  easy  way  to  get  trade,  eh?  Very 
comfortable  quarters.  Annual  steamer  bringing 
supplies  and  those  little  things  it's  hard  to  get 
when  living  off  a  mule's  back." 

And  he  illustrated  his  meaning  by  tapping  the 
bottle  of  wine  that  stood  between  them.  Then 
reflectively : 

"If  you  care  to  ride  up  to  the  chamtier  and  see 
what  we  have  for  a  boat  I  think  we  could  arrange 
it." 

"Mebbe  I  will  to-morrow  or  next  day,"  said 
Bridger. 

"There  are  three  there,  I  believe.  Take  any 
one." 

"That's  very  kind  of  you." 


Chapter  XI 


THE  DESCHAMPS  CLAN 


A  FTER  supper  Bridger  walked  about  and 
^  ^  inspected  the  fort  and  admired  its  arrange- 
ment, and  visited  McKenzie*s  home  and  ex- 
pressed a  proper  amount  of  appreciation.  Mc- 
Kenzie  was  determined  to  overwhelm  him  with 
the  comforts  and  resources  of  the  place,  and  all 
the  time  Bridger  was  burning  with  impatience  to 
be  off  up-river  to  the  chantier.  If  one  of  the 
boats  was  what  he  wanted  he  intended  to  get  it 
down  to  the  mouth  of  the  Yellowstone  and  a  few 
miles  up  that  stream,  and  hide  it  until  Papa  Clair 
came  along  with  the  packs. 

To  get  the  rich  prize  out  of  the  country  he 
knew  the  loading  and  start  must  be  worked  with- 
out a  hitch.  Not  only  might  Phinny  arrive  at  any 
moment,  having  learned  the  truth  of  the  beaver 
packs  from  the  Crows,  but  Berger  was  hourly 
expected,  and  he  would  be  sure  to  know.  But 
262 


THE  DESCHAMPS  CLAN  263 

there  was  no  suggestion  of  impatience  or  worry 
in  Bridger's  genial  bearing. 

McKenzie  excused  himself  to  attend  to  some 
routine  matter  and  Bridger  lounged  up  to  Lander 
and  without  looking  at  him  muttered : 

"Sound  the  clerks  about  the  boats  at  the 
chantier — number  and  condition.  He  says  there 
are  three  there.  We  can  have  our  pick.  At  first 
I  thought  he  was  going  to  refuse — suddenly  gave 
in — signs  look  bad.  Wait  for  me  if  you  have  to 
keep  awake  all  night.  Tve  got  to  set  up  with  him 
and  a  bottle." 

Until  deep  into  the  night  Bridger  listened  to 
McKenzie's  invitations  to  join  the  A.  F.  C.  and 
his  boastings  of  the  company's  remarkable  suc- 
cess. If  ever  a  man  was  licensed  to  feel  proud 
from  a  trader's  view-point  of  his  success  in  the 
fur  trade,  it  was  Kenneth  McKenzie. 

How  far  he  would  have  gone  without  the  back- 
ing of  the  all-powerful  company  is  another  ques- 
tion. He  was  preeminently  a  trading-post  man. 
It  is  doubtful  if  he  could  have  plunged  into  the 
heart  of  an  unknown  country  and  attained  the 
success  that  Bridger  repeatedly  scored. 

Of  the  two  men  Bridger's  life  and  efforts  have 
been  of  vastly  more  value  to  posterity.    McKenzie 


264         KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

was  a  superlative  trader.  Bridger  was  an  excel- 
lent trader,  a  great  explorer  and  a  born  topog- 
rapher. As  a  hunter,  trapper  and  guide  he  had 
few  equals.  In  the  last  capacity  Fate  was  drilling 
him  for  a  most  important  task  with  Johnston's 
army  in  '57  and  the  Indian  campaign  of  *6^-66. 

McKenzie  built  exclusively  for  the  advance- 
ment of  the  American  Fur  Company.  Bridger 
built  for  the  mighty  hosts  of  humanity  about  to 
break  loose  across  the  plains  and  through  the 
Rockies. 

The  mountain  man  listened  gravely,  never  once 
mentioning  the  keelboat.  McKenzie  further  to 
influence  him  quoted  at  length  from  his  records 
of  the  huge  number  of  fox,  white  hare,  badger, 
white  wolf,  swanskins  and  dressed  cowskins,  in 
addition  to  the  staple  beaver  and  robes,  the  post 
handled  every  year. 

"Mr.  Bridger,"  he  solemnly  declared  as  he  fin- 
ished his  display  of  records.  "I'll  promise  you 
that  you  shall  be  made  the  head  of  a  new  depart- 
ment— ^bourgeois  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  outfit 
of  the  A.  F.  C.  with  headquarters  on  Green  River 
— at  a  salary  of  five  thousand  a  year  and  a  suit- 
ble  percentage  of  the  profits.  There,  sir!  That 
is  a  proposition  that  I  couldn't  make  with  head- 


THE  DESCHAMPS  CLAN  265 

quarters'  consent  to  any  other  man  in  the 
mountains." 

"It's  a  good  offer,"  mused  Bridger,  "providing 
the  percentage  is  all  right.  Not  that  there  ain't  a 
dozen  men  who  can  handle  the  work  just  as  well 
as  me.  As  I've  said  it  all  depends  on  the  per- 
centage, when  you  come  to  figuring  its  real  value. 
Beaver  won't  always  last.  Big  fortunes  is  to  be 
made  in  it  now,  and  I  know  beaver.  But  I'm 
much  obliged  for  the  offer.  I'll  chew  it  over  on 
my  way  down-river." 

"Think  about  it  to-night,"  urged  McKenzIe. 
"And  remember  I  never  lie  when  I  want  a  man — 
I  tell  him  the  blunt  truth." 

"Of  course — makes  a  feller  mad  to  find  out 
some  one  has  been  lying  to  him.  No  sense  in  it. 
Now  I'll  turn  in." 

He  proceeded  to  the  room  set  apart  for  them 
and  found  Lander  fully  dressed  and  sound  asleep. 
It  was  obvious  he  had  tried  to  keep  awake  to  make 
his  report.  Bridger  shook  him  out  of  his  slum- 
ber and  softly  asked : 

"What  do  the  clerks  say  about  the  boats  at  the 
chantier^^ 

Lander  blinked  owlishly  at  the  door  and  sur- 
prised his  friend  by  stealing  to  it  and  glancing 


266        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

out  into  the  hall.  Stumbling  back  to  Bridger  he 
whispered : 

"It's  derned  queer.  Overheard  it  by  chance 
when  two  of  the  clerks  got  to  cussing  their  luck. 
When  McKenzie  left  you  it  was  to  tell  the  clerks 
to  take  men  and  ride  up  to  the  chantier  and  bring 
down  two  keelboats  and  leave  them  on  the  north 
bank  of  the  river,  five  miles  above  here.  They 
started  at  once. 

"From  another  clerk  I  found  out  there  were 
three  boats  there  just  as  he  said,  but  one's  so 
smashed  up  it's  beyond  repair.  It's  the  smashed- 
up  one  we'll  find." 

"Which  is  darned  poor  listening,"  growled 
Bridger.  "We  must  start  early  in  the  morning. 
He  told  me  to  take  my  pick  of  the  boats  up  there. 
I'll  do  it!  An'  he  said  he  never  lied  to  a  man 
when  he  wanted  him. 

"One  thing's  sartain ;  if  we  don't  git  a  keelboat 
we'll  trust  to  luck  with  the  bull-boats.  If  we  have 
to  do  that  I'll  be  mighty  sorry  we  didn't  make  for 
the  Platte  an'  its  shallow  water.  But  I  did  want 
to  go  this  way  so's  I  could  turn  the  packs  over  to 
Prevost  an'  git  back  to  the  mountains.  Mebbe 
our  medicine  will  work  for  us.    Who  knows  ?" 

Only  the  horse-herders  were  astir  when  Brid- 


THE  DESCHAMPS  CLAN  267 

ger  aroused  Lander  from  his  unfinished  slumbers. 
Lander  sleepily  repaired  to  the  square  and  found 
his  horse  saddled  and  waiting-.  Bridger  whistled 
and  his  own  animal  was  brought  from  the  shed. 

"We'll  start  at  once  and  eat  a  bite  as  we  ride/* 
said  Bridger,  swinging  into  the  saddle.  "I've 
raided  the  cook  and  have  a  saddle-bag  filled  with 
provender.  Don't  try  to  talk  until  we  get  clear  of 
the  fort."  And  he  glanced  up  at  the  bastion  as  if 
expecting  to  behold  McKenzie  on  the  balcony. 

The  river  bank  was  shrouded  in  the  early 
morning  mists  and  at  a  distance  of  a  few  hundred 
yards  the  fort  became  half-lost  to  view,  the  stock- 
ade entirely  blotted  out. 

"McKenzie  thinks  there  is  some  game  being 
played,"  tersely  broke  out  Bridger.  "He  wants 
to  be  mighty  nice  for  he  wants  to  git  me  into  the 
A.  F.  C.  But  the  keelboat  sticks  in  his  crop.  He 
ain't  made  up  his  mind  just  what  he'll  do. 

"To  git  time  to  think  he  sends  men  on  the  sly 
to  fetch  away  any  boat  that'll  hold  water  an' 
leave  the  bu'sted  one.  This  makes  it  safe  for  him 
to  tell  me  I  can  have  my  pick  of  boats  up  there. 

"I'll  come  back  with  a  talk  that  the  boat  ain't 
no  good.  He'll  be  surprised  an'  talk  to  the  clerk. 
All  of  this  will  take  time.     An'  it'll  give  him 


268         KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

room  to  do  some  thinking.  He  ain't  satisfied 
about  me  coming  here. 

"When  we  git  back  from  the  chantier  it's  most 
likely  he'll  take  a  whirl  at  asking  you  questions. 
You  won't  know  nothing,  of  course.  Our  danger 
is  that  Phinny  or  Jake  Berger  will  come  along 
before  we  quit  wasting  time — or  worse  still,  that 
Papa  Clair  may  come  down  the  Yellowstone  in 
his  bull-boats  an'  be  seen  by  some  of  the  engages. 
Lordy,  that  would  be  a  mess !" 

"Phinny  may  be  quitting  the  Crow  village  just 
as  Papa  Clair  comes  along,"  suggested  Lander. 

"If  you  was  a  Injun  you'd  stick  pine  splinters 
into  a  prisoner  an'  light  'em  before  burning  him  at 
the  stake,"  grinned  Bridger.  "Now  keep  shet 
while  I  look  at  the  trail." 

The  sun  was  burning  away  the  mists,  and  the 
trail  they  were  following  was  broad  and  ancient. 
From  immemorial  times  the  buffalo  had  followed 
it;  the  Indians  had  followed  it.  It  offered  no 
information  to  Lander — ^no  more  than  would  a 
pavement  of  rock.  To  Bridger  it  babbled  with 
many  voices.  The  best  plainsmen  of  his  day  said 
never  an  Indian  nor  a  single  horse  could  cross  his 
path  without  his  detecting  the  fact  and  determin- 
ing how  old  was  the  bisecting  trail. 


THE  DESCHAMPS  CLAN  269 

The  trail  was  hard  packed  by  countless  moc- 
casins and  hoofs,  yet  Bridger  dismounted  and 
dropped  on  his  knees  and  became  deeply  inter- 
ested in  searching  the  brown  earth.  On  the  out- 
skirts of  the  path  the  signs  of  recent  travel  were 
fresher.  For  twenty  minutes  the  mountain  man 
worked  from  the  center  of  the  trail  to  the  edge 
and  then  back  again,  and  as  his  investigation  ad- 
vanced Lander  noted  he  confined  all  his  attention 
to  the  north  side. 

Finally  he  rose  and  mounted  his  horse  and 
announced : 

"According  to  the  number  of  horses  some  three 
hundred  warriors  are  in  Gauche's  party." 

"McKenzie  said  he  had  passed  this  way  after 
being  licked  by  the  Aricaras,"  reminded  Lander, 
beginning  to  think  the  time  was  lost. 

"I  wasn't  pawing  round  to  find  out  if  McKen- 
zie  was  speaking  the  truth,  or  was  a  liar.  A  blind 
man  could  read  that  part  of  the  storry  without  git- 
ting  off  his  horse,'*  ironically  retorted  Bridger. 

"What  McKenzie  didn't  say,  an'  probably 
didn't  know,  was  that  Gauche,  or  Left  Hand  as 
some  call  him,  has  got  a  sick  man  an'  a  travois. 
The  band  was  moving  very  slow  at  this  point. 
We'll  have  to  dodge  their  camp  within  the  next 


270       'KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

few  miles.  He  might  want  us  to  stay  an*  visit 
him. 

"The  trail  is  twenty-four  hours  old,  but  one 
man  on  a  lame  horse  has  come  along  here  within 
the  last  hour.  He  stops  every  little  v/ay.  He's 
either  studying  the  Assiniboin  trail,  or  waiting 
for  us.  All  of  which  means  we  must  ride  with 
our  eyes  open." 

Two  miles  were  passed  without  any  attempt  at 
conversation.  Bridger  had  kept  his  gaze  focused 
on  the  winding  road.  Suddenly  he  exclaimed 
under  his  breath  and  dismounted  and  dropped  on 
his  hands  and  knees.  He  crawled  slowly  from 
the  trail  for  a  distance  of  fifty  feet.  When  he 
returned  his  face  was  grave. 

"Eight  men  on  foot  swung  into  the  trail  where 
your  nag  stands.  They  stood  an'  talked  with 
the  man  on  horseback ;  then  the  nine  of  them  quit 
the  trail  an'  struck  into  the  bush.  The  men  on 
foot  wasn't  Assiniboins,  Each  had  a  gun  as  you 
can  tell  by  the  faint  marks  where  they  rested  the 
butts  while  chinning  the  mounted  man.  They  toe 
in  an'  their  moccasins  are  heavier  an'  stronger 
than  them  worn  by  the  Assiniboins,  showing  they. 
go  much  afoot.  They  must  be  breeds  that  hang 
round  the  fort. 


THE  DESCHAMPS  CLAN  271 

"They've  Tarned  that  Gauche  is  In  camp  with 
a  sick  man.  Sick  man  must  be  a  big  medicine 
man  or  a  chief,  else  Gauche  wouldn^t  hold  up  his 
march  for  him.  The  breeds  probably  figger  to 
sneak  in  after  dark  an'  run  off  the  horses.  The 
camp  must  be  within  a  mile  or  two  an'  the  breeds 
are  drawing  well  back  from  the  trail  to  wait  until 
night." 

They  rode  for  a  bit  when  Bridger  led  off  from 
the  trail  and  explained : 

*T  want  to  give  Gauche  a  wide  berth.  He's 
sure  to  be  ugly  as  a  bear  with  a  sore  head  along 
of  the  whipping  he  got  down-river.  We'll  beat 
back  a  few  miles  an'  then  strike  straight  for  the 
chantier." 

The  traveling  became  much  slower  after  they 
left  the  trail.  Bridger  watched  for  signs  of  men 
afoot  but  found  none,  and  this  convinced  him 
that  his  deductions  were  correct.  The  nine  men 
had  simply  withdrawn  to  one  side  to  wait  until 
dark.  With  the  quickness  of  the  forest  bred  he 
slipped  from  his  horse  and  leveled  his  rifle  across 
the  saddle  before  Lander  could  imagine  what  was 
the  matter.  ' 

Then  among  the  bushes  he  made  out  the  figure 
of  an  Indian  woman.    Her  hair  was  g-rav  and  as 


272        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

she  stared  at  them  she  tore  at  it.  With  a  little 
laugh  at  his  alarm  Bridger  swung  back  into  the 
saddle  and  the  woman  eagerly  advanced  and  be- 
gan talking  shrilly  and  rapidly. 

"She's  speaking  Assiniboin/'  said  Bridger  as 
he  watched  and  hstened.     "I  git  it  all  right." 

The  woman  ceased  talking  and  made  signs. 
Bridger  nodded  and  said : 

"One  of  your  young  men  is  hurt  ?'* 

"Hurt  very  bad,"  she  replied.  "Come  and 
make  him  medicine." 

Bridger  possessed  the  mountain  man's  knowl- 
edge of  emergency  surgery.  Also  was  he  imbued 
with  the  superstitions  of  the  Indians.  He 
believed  in  his  medicine.  His  kind  heart  urged 
him  to  follow  the  woman.  His  commercial 
instinct  warned  that  he  had  no  time  to  lose  if  he 
would  visit  the  chantier  and  return  to  the  fort 
before  Phinny  or  Jake  Berger  arrived  to  inform 
McKenzie  about  the  forty  packs.  He  explained 
the  situation  to  Lander. 

The  woman  was  laboring  under  great  mental 
distress.  There  was  none  of  the  Indian  stoicism 
Lander  had  heard  so  much  about.  Lander's  sym- 
pathy was  aroused. 

Bridger  asked  how  far  she  had  come.    She  held 


THE  DESCHAMPS  CLAN  273 

the  thumb  and  forefinger  of  her  hands  together 
as  if  holding  a  thread,  then  pulled  them  apart  a 
few  inches,  then  raised  a  hand  with  finger  erect 
and  moved  it  from  side  to  side  and  forward. 

*'Says  we  can  git  there  in  a  short  time  an'  in 
a  few  steps,"  translated  Bridger.  "Reckon  we'd 
best  go  with  her.  My  medicine  feels  strong  this 
morning.  Some  worthless  breed ;  but  if  he's  hurt, 
he's  hurt." 

The  woman  seemed  overwhelmed  with  joy  as 
he  motioned  her  to  lead  the  way.  She  ran  ahead 
and  repeatedly  looked  back  to  make  sure  they 
were  following  her.  In  this  fashion  she  led  them 
nearly  a  mile  through  the  bush-grown  area. 

Bridger  finally  reined  in  and  beckoned  her  to 
come  back.  She  shook  her  head  and  pointed,  and 
gestured  for  him  to  come  on,  and  to  convince 
him  he  had  all  but  arrived  she  raised  her  voice  and 
called  out. 

Bridger  set  his  horse  in  motion,  his  eyes  on  the 
w^oman,  and  although  his  quick  ear  caught  the 
rustling  of  bushes  he  was  surrounded  and  his  gim 
snatched  from  his  hand  before  he  could  turn  his 
head.  A  side  glance  revealed  Lander  likewise 
disarmed  and  dazed  by  the  quickness  of  it  all. 

The  woman  ahead  danced  and  flung  her  arms 


274        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

above  her  head  and  cackled  hideously.  Directly- 
ahead  of  Bridger  stood  old  Deschamps,  and  his 
gun  covered  Bridger's  chest.  To  Lander,  Brid- 
ger called  out : 

"Take  it  easy.  Don't  show  any  fight — yet. 
That  old  hag  led  us  into  a'  ambush.  These  are 
thieving  breeds.  What  the  devil's  the  matter 
Vi^ith  that  medicine  of  mine!"  Then  to  Des- 
champs :  "Why  do  you  hold  me  up  like  this?'* 

"We  want  to  have  a  talk  with  you,"  Deschamps 
explained  in  Assiniboin. 

"Talk  Crow  or  English,  you  thieving  devil," 
commanded  Bridger. 

"Get  down  and  come  into  our  hut,"  ordered 
Deschamps,  backing  away  a  few  steps  and  speak- 
ing in  the  Crow  tongue. 

"That  skunk  Phinny  is  in  there  waiting  for 
us?" 

"No.  I  left  him  at  the  Crow  village  on  the 
Yellowstone.  He  is  to  marry  my  girl — make  her 
his  wife  like  white  men  marry  white  women.  But 
I  do  not  trust  him  yet,"  chuckled  Deschamps. 

As  he  finished  a  young  woman,  comely  of 
feature  and  graceful  of  form,  came  bounding 
through  the  growth  and  stared  wide-eyed  at  the 
white  men.    Lander  caught  her  fancy  for  a  mo- 


THE  DESCHAMPS  CLAN  275 

ment,  and  she  drew  close  to  him  and  peered  up 
into  his  hot  face. 

She  showed  her  white  blood  in  her  complexion 
and  light-gray  eyes,  but  there  was  frank  animal- 
ism in  her  steady  stare  that  made  Lander  nervous 
and  caused  her  to  laugh  scornfully.  Darting  to 
Bridger  she  placed  a  small  foot  in  the  stirrup 
and  lifted  herself  erect  and  maintained  her  bal- 
ance by  seizing  his  shaggy  brown  hair. 

Bridger's  gaze  was  as  cold  as  hers  was  volcanic. 
Her  insolence  changed  to  something  akin  to  admi- 
ration and  she  tugged  his  hair  playfully. 

"Phinny's  squaw!"  exclaimed  Bridger,  seizing 
her  wrists  and  forcing  her  to  release  her  grasp. 

She  fought  like  a  fury,  trying  to  reach  his  face 
with  her  fingers.  With  a  grunt  of  disgust  he 
picked  her  up  in  his  arms  and  tossed  her  over  his 
horse's  head  and  into  her  father's  arms. 

With  a  scream  of  rage  she  pulled  a  dirk  and 
came  at  him,  her  teeth  bare,  her  eyes  blazing. 
He  made  no  move  until  her  arm  went  back  for  the 
blow;  then  he  caught  her  wrist  and  gave  it  a 
wrench  that  brought  a  howl  of  pain  to  her  red 
lips.  Turning  toward  Deschamps  he  sternly 
ordered :    'Take  this  hell-cat  away." 

Deschamps  shrugged  his  shoulders,   showing 


2^6        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

no  inclination  to  interfere.  But  another  of  the 
family,  Francois,  the  oldest  son,  dropped  his  gun 
and  pinioned  the  girl's  hands  to  her  sides  and 
carried  her  into  the  bush.  When  he  came  back 
the  girl  did  not  attempt  to  follow  him. 

"Good  lord!  What  a  woman!"  gasped  Lan- 
der. He  stood  in  greater  fear  of  the  pretty  vixen 
than  he  did  of  the  entire  Deschamps  gang. 

"If  Phinny  marries  her  he  will  be  paying  the 
price  for  all  his  deviltry." 

"Get  down,"  ordered  Deschamps. 

There  was  an  ominous  steadying  of  guns  and 
Bridger  quietly  slid  from  the  saddle  and  motioned 
for  Lander  to  do  likewise. 

"You  and  your  gang  plan  to  steal  Gauche's 
horses  while  he  camps  to  cure  a  sick  man,"  Brid- 
ger accused. 

Deschamps  w^as  startled.  The  white  man's 
medicine  was  very  wise  to  read  his  plans.  His 
villainous  old  face  hardened.  When  the  white 
man  showed  he  knew  so  much  he  dug  his  own 
grave.  After  he  had  answered  certain  important 
questions  he  and  his  young  friend  would  disap- 
pear. Bridger  swung  his  bold  gaze  over  the  cir- 
cle of  sullen  faces  and  remarked : 

"My  medicine  is  whispering  to  me  that  your 


THE  DESCHAMPS  CLAN  277 

friend  Francois  will  be  killed  very  soon — ^I  see 
Jack  Rem  and  his  three  sons.  They  hunt  with 
the  Deschamps  now  but  my  medicine  says  the 
time  is  just  ahead  when  the  two  families  will  fight 
and  kill  each  other  off.  Wait — ^my  medicine  is 
whispering." 

He  paused  and  tilted  his  head  and  smiled 
grimly — then  announced: 

"My  medicine  says  Baptiste  Gardepied  is  com- 
ing after  you  with  a  big  war-party  of  Blackfeet. 
Better  git  yourself  killed  before  he  gets  you." 

"You  lie!"  hissed  Deschamps.  "Gardepied 
knows  I  will  kill  him  and  has  left  the  country." 

"He  is  wnth  the  Blackfeet  and  has  turned  them 
against  you.  He  almost  caught  you  when  you 
betrayed  my  young  man  into  the  hands  of  the 
Blackfeet.  He  set  the  young  man  free.  He  will 
kill  you." 

"No  more,  or  I  will  kill  you,"  yelled  Des- 
champs, now  beside  himself  with  rage. 

Francois  feared  his  father's  anger  would  break 
up  their  plans,  so  he  now  assumed  command  and 
gave  an  order. 

The  men  closed  in  about  Bridger  and  Lander 
and  poked  them  with  their  guns  and  drove  them 
toward  the   old  woman  who  had  acted  as   the 


278        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

decoy.  She  fell  back  as  the  prisoners  were  made 
to  advance,  and  within  a  few  minutes  halted 
before  a  long  log  cabin  roofed  with  bark. 

The  whites  were  pushed  through  the  low  door, 
the  breeds  following  and  remaining  between  them 
and  the  only  exit.  On  each  side  of  the  room  was 
a  small  opening,  high  up  and  too  small  for  a  man 
to  escape  through.  These  answered  for  windows 
and  admitted  light. 

In  the  middle  of  the  room  was  a  short  section 
of  a  Cottonwood  log,  standing  on  end  to  serve  as 
a  stool.  Bridger  appropriated  the  stool  and  Lan- 
der dropped  on  the  hard-packed  earth  at  his  side 
and  clasped  his  hands  over  his  knees — the  knife  in 
his  right  boot  being  ready  for  his  hand. 

Deschamps  stepped  ahead  of  his  gang  to  act  as 
inquisitor,  but  before  he  could  begin,  his  daughter 
squirmed  her  way  through  the  group  and  darted 
like  a  fury  toward  Bridger  and  raised  a  long- 
barreled  pistol.  The  intrusion  was  so  quickly 
completed  that  not  a  man  moved,  and  as  she  stood 
crouching  before  her  victim,  the  pistol  leveled,  the 
occupants  of  the  room  became  paralyzed  and 
glared  blankly  and  waited  for  the  tragedy  to 
arouse  them  to  action. 

Bridger,  on  the  stool,  remained  calm  of  coun- 


THE  DESCHAMPS  CLAN  279 

tenance,  his  gray  eyes  meeting  and  holding  the 
eyes  of  the  woman.  Her  bosom  rose  and  fell  with 
the  lust  to  kill.  Still  the  gray  eyes  held  her  gaze 
captive,  and  as  she  stared  she  found  herself  dis- 
covering strange  depths  in  the  dilated  pupils. 

No  one  about  the  door  dared  move,  for  fear 
of  precipitating  the  homicide.  Lander  was  frozen 
with  horror  of  the  situation  and  looked  straight 
ahead,  waiting  for  the  pistol  to  speak.  For  a 
slow  count  of  ten  the  tableau  endured,  then  with 
a  shriek  the  girl  dropped  the  pistol,  threw  up  both 
hands  and  staggered  blindly  for  the  door. 

The  men  gave  way  and  in  silence  watched  her 
depart.  The  white  man's  medicine  was  very 
powerful  when  it  could  tame  a  wildcat  like  the 
Deschamps  girl.  Bridger  picked  up  the  pistol 
and  examined  it  and  then  laid  it  between  his  feet. 

Deschamps  recovered  first  from  the  general 
stupor.    He  ordered :  "Give  up  that  pistol." 

"The  young  woman  gave  it  to  me.  I  will  keep 
it  here,"  quietly  replied  Bridger. 

"Give  it  up  or  I  fire !"  commanded  Deschamps 
aiming  his  gun. 

"That  would  spoil  your  plans.  You  brought 
us  here  for  something,"  reminded  Bridger,  plac- 
ing a  moccasin  on  the  pistol. 


28o         KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"Let  him  keep  it.  We  have  many  guns/'  spoke 
up  Francois. 

"But  we  will  shoot  if  his  hand  touches  it 
again,"  added  Jack  Rem. 

Deschamps  changed  his  attitude  and  called  out 
for  the  old  woman  to  see  that  the  girl  did  not 
enter  the  cabin  again.  Then  turning  to  Bridger 
he  asked:  "Where  are  the  packs  of  beaver  you 
took  from  the  Blackfoot  medicine-lodge?" 

"Oh,  ho!  So  that  was  the  cat  in  the  bag,  eh?" 
chuckled  Bridger.  "Did  Phinny  think  I  was 
carrying  'em  with  me?  You  might  look  in  my 
saddle-bags;  or  perhaps  my  young  man  has  'em 
in  his  belt." 

"Phinny  doesn't  know  about  them,"  sullenly 
replied  Deschamps.    He  added : 

"I  was  told  about  them  at  the  Crow  village  a 
day's  march  below  the  mouth  of  the  Yellowstone. 
Black  Arrow  told  his  warriors  to  say  nothing 
about  the  packs  to  us,  but  one  man  was  my  friend 
and  told  me.  Phinny  does  not  understand  the 
Crow  tongue.  He  knows  nothing.  Ferguson 
may  find  out  about  it,  but  he  had  not  when  I 
left  the  village." 

Bridger  eyed  him  in  admiration.  Deschamps' 
reputation  for  bloodthirsty  deviltry  was  known 


THE  DESCHAMPS  CLAN  281 

to  most  mountain  men,  but  few  would  have  cred- 
ited him  with  scheming  to  steal  forty  thousand 
dollars'  worth  of  beaver,  unless  he  found  the 
packs  cached  and  unguarded.  His  larceny  was 
especially  daring  since  it  involved  the  deception 
of  an  A.  F.  C.  man. 

"Pretty  smart  for  a'  Injun.  What  did  the 
Crows  tell  you?"  asked  Bridger. 

"How  you  and  the  boy  got  the  packs.  You 
two  came  through  the  valley  alone.  Your  com- 
ing to  Union  tells  me  the  packs  will  come  down 
the  Yellowstone.  You  are  not  such  a  fool  as  to 
have  them  brought  to  the  fort  where  Phinny  and 
McKenzie  would  see  them.  Phinny  hired  Fergu- 
son away  from  you.  He  will  handle  the  Crow 
trade  for  the  A.  F.  C.  this  winter." 

"Phinny  will  be  coming;  to  the  fort  soon," 
mused  Bridger. 

"He  started  as  soon  as  he  found  I  had  gone," 
growled  Deschamps.  "But  he  better  be  careful. 
He  wanted  my  girl  for  his  squaw.  Now  he 
doesn't  seem  to  want  her  so  much.  But  he  can't 
make  a  fool  of  her.  She's  got  white  blood  in  her. 
He'll  take  her,  or  Til  cut  his  throat." 

"She'll  cut  his  throat  if  he  takes  her,"  grunted 
the  younger  Deschamps  with  a  hideous  leer. 


282        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"I  don't  like  him.  I'm  going  to  kill  him  any- 
way," growled  Francois. 

"Keep  still !"  snarled  Deschamps.    To  Bridger : 

"I'm  waiting  to  know  when  the  packs  will 
come  through  and  how.  Tell  me  and  you  won't 
be  hurt." 

"They're  to  come  by  pack  mules.  How  do  I 
know  when  a  string  of  mules  will  git  into  Fort 
Union,  you  fool  ?  Phinny  may  hold  them  up  for 
all  I  know.    Perhaps  he  has  them  now." 

Deschamps  gnawed  his  lips  and  eyed  Bridger 
evilly.    Jack  Rem  spoke  up  and  declared : 

"Your  w^hite  medicine  is  strong,  you  say.  It 
better  tell  you  where  the  packs  are.  My  woman 
was  at  the  fort  when  you  asked  about  a  keelboat. 
You  want  it  for  the  packs." 

Deschamps  stamped  his  feet  and  cried : 

"Good  for  you,  Jack  Rem.  Your  woman  shall 
have  much  red  cloth.    She  has  sharp  ears. 

"So  you'd  fool  the  old  fox,  would  you,  Brid- 
ger? Keep  him  covered,  boys.  I'll  give  him  until 
I  fill  my  pipe  to  tell  when  the  packs  will  come 
down  the  Yellow^stone." 

Bridger  bowed  his  hea'd  and  pondered  deeply. 
There  w^ere  nine  of  them,  all  armed  and  not  a  bit 
averse  to  murder.    His  and  Lander's  rifles  stood 


THE  DESCHAMPS  CLAN  283 

in  the  corner.  He  had  a  short  sk inning-knife  in 
his  belt  and  Lander  had  his  long  blade  in  his 
boot.  His  moccasin  rested  on  the  long-barrel 
pistol.  One  life — if  it  could  be  discharged.  But 
should  either  he  or  Lander  make  a  move  both 
would  be  riddled.  Were  it  in  his  power  to  turn 
over  the  packs  on  the  spot  he  knew  the  gang 
would  not  permit  him  and  Lander  to  leave  the  hut 
alive  could  they  help  it.  His  only  hope  was  to 
play  for  time  until  a  moment  came  when  the  gang 
was  off  guard. 

"Deschamps,"  he  earnestly  insisted,  "I  do  not 
know  when  the  packs  will  come.  Mebbe  in  three 
days.  Mebbe  not  for  twice  as  long.  Mebbe  not 
at  all.  I  came  ahead  and  traveled  fast.  That  is 
the  best  I  can  tell  you." 

"You'll  do  better  than  that  or  never  leave  this 
hut,"  coolly  retorted  Deschamps,  still  rolling  the 
tobacco  between  his  palms.  "I've  killed  better  men 
than  you.  Tell  the  truth  and  you'll  be  kept  here 
till  we  get  the  packs.    Then  you'll  be  free  to  go." 

Bridger  smothered  a  smile,  still  fighting  for  a 
little  chance  to  turn  up  on  which  he  could  pivot 
an  offensive.    Lifting  his  head  he  gravely  said : 

"My  medicine  knows  everything.  If  it  will  tell 
me  I  will  tell  you.     I  do  not  want  to  die.     I  can 


284         KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

get  more  beaver.  A  life  lost  stays  lost.  I  will 
talk  to  my  medicine." 

Deschamps  brightened  and  nodded  for  him  to 
proceed. 

Bridger  warned:  "Let  no  one  move  or  speak, 
or  I  shall  learn  nothing."  Then  very  deliberately 
to  show  he  intended  no  tricks  he  gently  pushed 
the  pistol  to  one  side,  bent  between  his  knees  and 
rested  a  finger  on  the  earthen  floor  near  Lander. 
He  tapped  on  the  floor  in  front  of  the  log  which 
serv^ed  him  for  a  stool,  as  if  to  attract  his  med- 
icine, and  succeeded  in  putting  Lander  on  the 
qui  vive.  Then  he  tilted  his  head  as  if  listening, 
and  was  able  to  keep  an  eye  on  the  gang. 

The  breeds  stood  breathless  and  waited.  None 
of  them  had  any  doubts  as  to  the  virtue  and  intel- 
ligence of  Bridger's  medicine.  It  was  celebrated 
for  efficacy  throughout  the  mountains.  Nor  was 
there  one  who  failed  to  understand  how  whim- 
sical a  man's  medicine  can  be  at  times,  and  must 
be  catered  to  and  indulged  and  have  feasts  made 
for  it. 

Bridger's  eyes  widened  and  he  began  working 
his  finger  in  the  dirt.  Lander  with  a  sidewise 
gaze  saw  letters  forming  in  the  dirt.  With  much 
business  of  listening  to  the  mysterious  voice  and 


THE  DESCHAMPS  CLAN  28$ 

taking  care  not  to  move  his  lips  and  give  any 
alarm  Bridger  slowly  completed  his  message. 
Lander  read: 

Fall  flat  when  they  fire  then  at  em  I  shall  thro 
the  log 

Lander,  staring  blankly,  patted  his  boot-leg  to 
show  he  understood.  Bridger  rocked  his  head 
back  and  forth  and  began  to  groan;  then  he 
bowed  forward,  his  hands  working  convulsively 
between  his  legs  and  against  the  log.  He  was  like 
a  medicine  man  having  convulsions. 

"My  m.edicine  is  here  V  he  gasped,  his  eyes  pro- 
truding wildly,  his  hands  resting  on  the  sides  of 
the  log,  his  legs  straddling  gradually  apart. 

"What  does  it  say?"  whispered  Deschamps. 

"This !"  roared  Bridger,  surging  forward  while 
his  hands  fetched  the  log  between  his  legs  and 
with  a  violent  toss  hurled  it  into  the  group.  And 
as  he  made  the  cast  he  threw  himself  flat,  pulled 
Lander  with  him,  and  reached  for  the  pistol. 

As  the  two  went  down  four  of  the  men  fired — 
their  lead  plumping  into  the  rear  wall.  Des- 
champs was  scrambling  for  his  rifle  and  four  of 
the  men  were  writhing  on  the  floor — knocked 
over  by  the  weight  of  the  heavy  missile. 


286         KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"At  'em!"  yelled  Brld^er,  coming  to  his  feet 
and  rushing  toward  the  door. 

He  snapped  the  pistol  at  Deschamps  and  it 
failed  to  explode.  He  hurled  it  and  struck  a  man 
in  the  chest.  Lander  was  at  his  side,  his  knife 
drawn.  One  of  Rem's  sons-in-law  jumped  to  get 
the  prisoners'  rifles,  but  Lander  threw  his  knife 
and  pinned  the  man's  arm  to  the  wall. 

The  men  knocked  out  by  the  log  began  crawl- 
ing to  their  feet.  Deschamps  shrieked  to  the 
others  to  use  their  knives.  Before  they  could 
draw  their  knives,  however,  Bridger  was  among 
them,  trying  to  bore  a  hole  to  the  door. 

He  instantly  became  the  hub  of  a  revolving 
wheel  of  fiercely  fighting  men.  He  caught  old 
Deschamps  by  the  scruff  of  the  neck  and  flung 
him  about  as  a  shield  while  his  free  hand  deliv- 
ered smashing  blows.  The  younger  Deschamps 
boy  tried  to  dirk  the  mountain  man  but  drove  his 
steel  into  his  father's  arm  and  was  rewarded  with 
a  string  of  horrible  curses. 

Bridger  looked  for  Lander  to  help  him  and  was 
(dismayed  to  see  him  on  the  floor  with  blood  flow- 
ing from  a  cut  on  the  head.  A  war-ax  lay  at  his 
side  with  blood  on  the  handle.  The  exulting  face 
of  the  Descliamps  girl  in  the  doorway  and  the 


THE  DESCHAMPS  CLAN  287 

direction  of  her  gaze  told  him  it  was  she  who  had 
hurled  the  ax,  and  only  by  chance  had  the  handle 
instead  of  the  blade  struck  the  blow. 

The  sight  of  the  young  man  maddened  Brid- 
ger.  Pivoting  on  his  heel  he  swept  Deschamps 
around  in  a  circle,  and  maintained  his  balance 
with  his  outstretched  right  fist — two  spokes  in  a 
terrible  wheel.  He  felt  Deschamps  go  limp  and 
knew  his  senses  had  been  battered  out  of  him. 

Four  men  were  down  and  showed  no  inclina- 
tion to  rise.  Three  men  still  opposed  him  as  the 
fellow  pinned  to  the  wall  made  no  effort  to 
release  himself,  and  Deschamps  was  unconscious. 
Ceasing. his  gyrations  he  lifted  Deschamps  above 
his  head  and  hurled  him  against  Francois,  and 
evil  father  and  son  went  down  together.  Leaping 
over  the  prostrate  bodies  with  two  men  after  him 
armed  with  knives,  he  reached  the  man  pinned 
against  the  wall,  wrenched  loose  Lander's  knife 
and  wheeled  and  slashed  one  of  his  assailants 
across  the  face.  Something  fanned  his  cheek  and 
a  knife  stuck  and  vibrated  in  a  log.  Again  the 
girl  at  the  door.  Ignoring  her  and  the  chances  of 
further  attention  on  her  part  he  drove  the  remain- 
ing combatant  back  and  secured  the  two  rifles. 

Lander  was  now  rolling  his  head  and  groaning. 


288         KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

Holding  both  guns  in  one  hand,  Bridger  tossed 
the  long  knife  at  Lander's  side  and  cried : 

"There's  your  medicine.  Wake  up  an'  pick  it 
up!    We've  Hcked  'em!" 

Lander's  fingers  closed  on  the  haft  and  he 
crawled  to  his  feet,  glared  wildly  about,  then 
sensed  the  meaning  of  it  all  and  lurched  toward 
his  friend  mumbling: 

"You've  licked  them  you  mean.  Lord,  what  a 
fight  you  put  up !" 

"Reckon  even  Jim  Baker  would  have  to 
knuckle  down  a  little  to  this  scrimmage,"  Bridger 
proudly  admitted  as  he  swept  his  gaze  over  the 
prostrate  forms. 

"Them  two  bears  he  fit  an'  killed  weren't  full 
grown  of  course.  But  baby  grizzlies  are  mighty 
bad  poison.  Now  we'll  quit  this  place.  Have 
your  knife  ready  an'  look  out  for  that  hell-cat. 
Some  of  these  in  here  may  be  playing  'possum. 
I'll  back  out  an'  keep  'em  cooped  up  till  you  can 
find  an'  fetch  the  horses.    Go  ahead." 

Lander  leaped  through  the  doorway  and 
endeavored  to  cry  a  warning  to  his  patron. 
Bridger  followed  and  was  instantly  seized  and 
hurled  to  the  ground. 


Chapter  XII 

MEDICINE  FOR  THE  LANCE 

r'LAT  on  his  back  Bridger  looked  up  into  a 
*  circle  of  savage  faces.  Lander  stood  help- 
less between  two  warriors,  a  red  hand  over  his 
mouth.  The  men  holding  Bridger  down  stepped 
back  and  permitted  him  to  rise.  Both  his  rifle 
and  knife  had  been  taken  from  him  when  he  was 
first  seized. 

In  addition  to  the  circle  about  him  there  was 
another  and  a  stronger  line  a  few  rods  back.  He 
made  no  move  to  escape,  but  when  he  observed 
the  Deschamps  and  Rem  breeds  sneaking  through 
the  door  and  disappearing  into  the  bush  he  called 
on  his  captors  to  stop  them. 

"Let  the  dogs  go.  We  know  where  to  find 
them  when  we  are  drunk  and  want  to  dance  a 
mangy  scalp,"  spoke  up  a  deep  voice. 

Bridger  twisted  about  and  beheld  a  short,  pow- 
erfully built  Indian  with  much  gray  in  his  hair 
289 


290        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

advancing  through  the  inner  circle.  Waiting 
until  the  man  stood  before  him  Bridger  greeted : 

"My  friend  Gauche  comes  after  I  have  won  my 
fight." 

Lander  caught  the  one  word  Gauche,  and  knew 
he  was  in  the  presence  of  perhaps  the  most  cruel 
and  crafty  Indian  the  Northwest  had  produced 
in  many  years. 

Gauche  stared  coldly  at  Bridger.  He  still 
smarted  from  the  drubbing  inflicted  by  the 
Aricaras.  He  knew  Bridger  was  a  mighty  war- 
rior, but  he  owed  him  no  trade  allegiance.  There 
was  a  smoldering  rage  in  his  black  heart  which 
could  be  eased  only  by  torture  or  ransom. 

Bridger  and  his  young  man  w^re  not  connected 
with  Fort  Union,  and  there  was  no  A.  F.  C.  repri- 
sal to  fear.  But  Bridger  was  a  big  man  in  the 
mountains,  and  at  the  head  of  a  pioneer  fur  com- 
pany.   He  was  worth  a  fat  ransom. 

"Why  don't  you  say  something,  Gauche? 
Your  men  hear  fighting  and  seize  me  and  my 
brother  and  let  those  mixed  bloods  go.  They 
came  to  steal  your  horses.  Why  are  hands  placed 
on  me?  Don't  you  know  it  is  bad  business  for 
you  to  treat  a  white  man  this  way?  Or  do  you 
want  trouble  with  white  men  ?" 


MEDICINE  FOR  THE  LANCE      291 

Gauche  smiled  inscrutably,  and  replied: 

"I  have  said  it.  The  Deschamps  hair  is  mangy. 
My  medicine  will  not  feed  on  such.  When  I 
want  them  I  will  send  some  of  my  squaws  to  cut 
off  their  heads.    They  have  nothing  I  want. 

"Now  about  yourself.  What  do  I  care  for  your 
words  ?  Have  the  white  men  ever  made  Gauche, 
the  Left-Handed,  run?  When  he  calls  himself 
Wakontonga,  the  Great  Medicine,  does  he  go  and 
hide?  When  on  the  war-path  he  is  known  as 
Mina-Yougha,  the  Kiiife-Holder,  is  he  ever 
afraid?" 

"Has  not  Death  many  times  sent  to  him  say- 
ing, *He  invites  you,'  and  has  not  Gauche  always 
answered  with  a  laugh  and  returned  to  living  out 
his  time  ?  Speak  soft,  white  man ;  do  not  leave  a 
trail  of  words  that  will  make  me  angry." 

"Squaw's  talk,"  sneered  Bridger.  "Draw  off 
all  but  a  handful  of  your  men  and  give  me  a  knife 
or  an  ax,  and  you'll  find  the  kind  of  a  trail  I  will 
leave  for  you." 

Gauche  lifted  his  ax  as  if  to  strike  with  the  flat 
of  it,  encountered  Bridger's  blazing  eyes  and 
knew  if  he  struck  he  must  kill.  As  that  did  not 
meet  with  his  purpose  he  put  the  ax  aside  and 
briefly  said : 


292        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"I  open  a  new  trade.    I  need  you/' 

"Go  on,"  said  Bridger,  now  sensing  what  was 
coming. 

"You  live  among  white  folks,  many  sleeps 
down  the  long  river.  You  have  big  lodges  filled 
with  goods.  You  will  go  with  me  to  my  camp, 
where  I  shall  make  a  big  feast  for  my  war-medi- 
cine. Then  you  will  send  a  talking-paper  down 
the  river  by  the  young  man.  You  will  send  for 
a  fire-canoe  to  come  up  here  with  many  presents 
for  the  Assiniboins." 

"Your  medicine  must  be  foolish  to  make  you 
talk  like  this,"  sneered  Bridger.  "I  am  on  my 
way  to  the  place-of-building-boats.  I  am  Mc- 
Kenzie's  friend.  He  made  me  a  big  feast  at  the 
fort  last  night.  We  sat  up  till  the  moon  grew 
tired,  drinking  from  big  bottles. 

"McKenzie  and  his  men  are  following  after 
me.  Now  I  have  lived  in  his  lodge  and  eaten  his 
meat  and  drunk  from  his  bottle.  Let  the  Assini- 
boins  watch  their  steps  carefully,  or  they  will  step 
on  a  snake  that  bites  and  poisons." 

Gauche  concealed  his  concern  at  this  bold 
speech.  Of  all  things  he  must  not  incur  the  dis- 
pleasure of  McKenzie.  It  was  from  Fort  Union 
that  he  obtained  the  all-necessary  guns  and  pow- 


MEDICINE  FOR  THE  LANCE      293 

der  and  ball  and  the  dearly  loved  liquor.  Adher- 
ing to  his  original  purpose  of  holding  the  moun- 
tain man  for  a  big  ransom,  he  changed  his  bearing 
to  one  of  friendliness.    He  said : 

"There  are  bad  men  about  here.  If  you  are 
a  friend  of  the  Great  Chief  at  the  fort  you  are  a 
friend  of  the  Assiniboins.  You  shall  go  to  the 
place-of-building-boats.  Our  camp  is  near  there. 
We  will  go  with  you  to  see  no  bad  breeds  hurt 
you." 

"Nine  men  tried  to  hurt  me  in  the  cabin. 
Those  who  have  not  crawled  out  are  too  sick  to 
move.  To  some,  perhaps.  Death  has  sent  word, 
*Come,  he  invites  you.*  They  were  not  cunning 
like  Gauche.  They  went.  I  do  not  need  your 
help,  Gauche,  but  you  will  need  mine.  Therefore 
we  will  travel  together." 

Gauche  was  puzzled  by  these  words  and  studied 
Bridger  suspiciously. 

"We  will  ride  to  the  place-of-building-boats 
together  like  two  brothers,"  he  sullenly  assented. 

"Good.  Give  us  our  guns  and  bring  our 
horses.  My  young  man  and  I  are  in  no  hurry 
but  you  must  ride  fast  or  your  sick  man  will  die." 

Gauche  felt  himself  trembling.  He  stepped 
back  and  moved  about  to  hide  his  sudden  fear. 


294        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"Why  speak  of  a  sick  man?  Where  is  he?"  he 
demanded. 

"In  your  camp.  You  pitch  your  lodges  to  wait 
until  he  gets  well  or  dies.  Your  medicine  is  weak. 
It  let  the  Aricaras  whip  you.  It  can  not  make 
your  friend  well." 

The  chief  prided  himself  on  being  a  magician 
with  the  greatest  of  power.  He  had  a  nation  of 
credulous  believers  and  few  skeptics.  As  fast  as 
he  found  a  skeptic  he  fed  him  poison.  Having 
devoted  so  much  of  his  time  and  thoughts  to  sor- 
cery and  magic,  it  was  natural  that  he  should  be 
ensnared  in  his  own  black  webs,  and  he  began  to 
wish  he  had  never  seen  this  strange  white  man, 
who  mocked  him  before  his  warriors. 

"The  white  man  has  a  strong  medicine?"  he 
muttered. 

"Very  strong.  My  young  man  here  has  a  very 
strong  knife-medicine.  Black  Arrow  of  the 
Crows  offered  him  many  ponies  for  it.  But  my 
medicine  takes  his  by  the  hand  and  leads  it  about 
as  you  would  lead  a  child." 

"Then  he  shall  lead  my  friend  back  to 
strength.  He  is  La  Lance,  one  of  my  chiefs. 
There  are  crooked  tongues  that  will  say  my  magic 
killed  him  if  he  dies. 


MEDICINE  FOR  THE  LANCE      295 

"There  were  cords  through  his  bones  and  wolf- 
hairs  under  his  skin  and  bird-claws  in  his  flesh. 
With  my  medicine  I  took  them  all  out  and  showed 
them  to  him.  But  there  is  an  evil  spirit  in  him 
my  medicine  can  not  reach.  My  warriors  stand 
about  the  lodge  to  shoot  it  when  it  comes  out,  but 
my  medicine  can  not  drive  it  out." 

Bridger  turned  and  nodded  lightly  to  Lander, 
rapidly  explaining : 

"Chief  has  a  sick  Injun  on  his  hands.  Afraid 
he's  going  to  die  an'  that  his  reputation  as  a 
poisoner  will  make  other  bands  in  the  tribe  think 
he  was  murdered.  That  shows  it  ain't  a  cut  or  a 
gunshot."    Then  to  Gauche : 

"Bring  our  horses  and  guns,  and  lead  the  way. 
We  are  in  no  hurry.  We  will  stop  long  enough 
to  look  at  the  sick  man.  I  am  full  up  to  my  neck 
with  this  talk." 

The  horses  and  weapons  were  brought  up;  and, 
equipped  once  more  and  mounted,  the  white  men 
rode  side  by  side  with  the  Assiniboi'ns  in  front  and 
bringing  up  the  rear.  Lander  anxiously  mur- 
mured : 

"But  you  can't  cure  the  sick  man." 

"White  medicine  is  stronger'n  red  any  time," 
replied  Bridger.     "If  it's  something  very  simple 


296        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

I'll  use  some  doctor's  stuff  in  my  saddle-bag". 
I've  toted  it  to  the  mountains  an'  back  every  trip. 
My  medicine  would  work  all  right  on  anything-, 
but  I  never  bother  it  for  something  that  don't 
'mount  to  much.  An'  it  ain't  awful  keen  to  work 
on  an  Injun,  anyway.  I've  worked  it  on  Crows, 
as  they're  friends  of  mine,  but  I  always  was 
afraid  an  Injun  would  make  it  grow  weak.  Jim 
Baker's  got  crazy  idees  'bout  medicine — still,  it's 
all  right  not  to  take  chances. 

"A  feast  of  b'iled  berries  mayn't  do  it  any  good, 
but  I  reckon  they  wouldn't  do  it  any  harm.  Jim 
won't  take  no  chances  when  it  comes  to  his  medi- 
cine. I've  know'd  him  to  travel  four  hundred 
miles  just  to  git  something  he  allowed  his  medi- 
cine would  relish.  Between  my  medicine  an'  the 
doctor's  stuff  I'll  pull  the  Lance  through  or  kill 
him." 

Gauche's  camp  consisted  of  some  three  hundred 
warriors.  Bridger  shrewdly  surmised  that  the 
Aricaras  must  have  had  help  from  the  Sioux 
tribes  to  defeat  so  big-  a  band.  When  the  chief 
and  his  prisoners  rode  into  camp  there  rose  a 
great  commotion,  and  from  the  snatches  of  gibes 
hurled  at  them  Bridger  managed  to  patch  out 
the  truth. 


MEDICINE  FOR  THE  LANCE       297 

Gauche  had  learned  of  Bridger's  presence  at 
the  fort  and  had  determined  to  capture  him  and 
hold  him  for  a  big  ransom.  In  this  way  he  would 
in  part  make  up  for  the  spoils  he  had  planned  to 
take  from  the  Aricaras.  The  men  in  the  camp  on 
seeing  the  two  whites  boldly  taunted  them  with 
being  held  for  ransom,  and  Gauche  heard  it  with 
stolid  face  and  glittering  eyes. 

Bridger  halted  in  the  middle  of  the  camp  and 
said  to  Gauche : 

*Tell  your  men  we  are  here  to  cure  a  sick  man 
of  a  devil,  and  that  afterward  we  are  to  be  free  to 
go  our  way.  Tell  them  that  is  the  only  ransom  we 
will  pay.  If  the  man  dies  his  friends  will  say  you 
poisoned  him.  Then  two,  three  bands  will  join 
together  against  you.  Perhaps  your  own  people 
will  turn  against  you.  If  La  Lance  dies  it  will 
cost  you  your  life." 

"If  he  dies  you  will  be  the  cause,  and  you  will 
die,"  hissed  Gauche.  "But  I  will  say  what  you 
wish." 

And  lifting  his  powerful  voice  for  quiet  he 
told  his  people  how  he  had  made  a  bargain  with 
the  white  men.  If  they  cured  La  Lance  they 
were  to  go  free.  If  they  failed,  his  people  could 
kill  them  or  hold  them  for  ransom. 


298         KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

This  did  not  please  the  bulk  of  the  warriors. 
They  cared  nothing  for  La  Lance,  who  came 
from  another  band.  He  had  not  carried  himself 
so  conspicuously  as  to  win  their  admiration  dur- 
ing the  Aricara  campaign.  He  had  not  been 
wounded.  Either  his  fear  had  made  him  sick,  or 
old  Gauche  was  slowly  poisoning  him  to  death. 
They  rather  approved  of  the  latter  fate.  To  keep 
secret  from  his  captives  the  mutinous  inclination 
of  some  of  his  men  Gauche  dismissed  all  but  six 
of  his  companions  and  then  led  the  way  to  a  tent 
at  one  side  of  the  camp. 

As  they  rode  toward  this  Bridger  opened  a 
saddle-bag  and  extracted  a  medicine-case  and 
tucked  it  under  his  shirt.  As  they  dismounted 
from  their  horses  in  front  of  the  tent  four  war- 
riors standing  guard  there  discharged  their  guns 
at  the  ground  and  one  ran  about  clubbing  his  gun 
as  if  striking  at  something. 

Then  one  of  the  guards  loudly  and  proudly 
called  out  that  the  approach  of  the  great  master 
had  frightened  the  evil  spirit  from  the  sick  man 
and  that  they  had  shot  and  clubbed  it  to  death  as 
it  ran  from  under  the  tent.  One  said  it  was  the 
size  of  a  river-rat. 

Gauche  received  the  compliment  in  silence  and 


MEDICINE  FOR  THE  LANCE      299 

seemed  a  bit  loath  to  enter  the  tent.  Bridger 
crowded  by  him  and  stood  looking  down  on  La 
Lance,  who  had  three  years  to  hve  before  being 
dissected  and  eaten  by  the  Big  BelHes.  Bridger 
diagnosed  his  sickness  as  malarial  fever  and  felt 
much  relieved. 

Gauche  now  entered  and  displayed  some  cords 
of  rawhide,  some  strands  of  coarse  hair,  such  as 
the  Indians  plucked  from  between  the  buffalo's 
horns  for  the  making  of  horse-hobbles,  and  three 
withered  bird-claws. 

**These  were  taken  from  the  sick  man's  body 
by  my  medicine,"  he  modestly  reminded. 

Bridger  gravely  bowed  his  head  and  declared : 

"Your  magic  is  big.  Your  medicine  is  very 
strong,  for  it  drove  out  a  devil.  But  it  was  only 
a  little  devil  and  the  big  devil  remains.  My 
medicine  let  me  see  the  little  devil  when  it  ran 
from  under  the  tent.  Will  you  try  again,  or  shall 
I  use  my  medicine?" 

La  Lance  began  groaning.  His  eyes  were 
closed  and  he  did  not  sense  the  presence  of  the 
three  men.     Gauche  hastily  decided : 

"My  white  brother  shall  try  his  medicine." 

Bridger  fumbled  at  his  medicine-case  and 
bowed  his  head  as  if  in  deep  thought.     He  tilted 


300        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

his  head  as  if  listening  to  ghost  voices ;  but  in  his 
sidelong  glance  Lander  beheld  a  twinkle  in  the 
gray  eyes  and  a  twitching  at  the  comers  of  the 
firm  mouth  that  told  of  hidden  laughter. 

Staring  intently  at  Gauche,  the  mountain  man 
motioned  for  silence.  Gauche  and  Lander  stood 
rigid.  Only  the  moaning  of  the  sick  man  and 
the  murmur  of  angry  warriors  outside  the  tent 
intruded  on  the  silence.  With  an  abruptness  that 
caused  the  chief  to  step  back  nervously  Bridger 
hissed : 

"My  medicine  tells  me  the  sick  man  is  troubled 
by  the  Water  Spirit.  Your  medicine  is  strong, 
but  it  can  not  drive  out  the  Water  Spirit.  Wait 
— my  medicine  brings  another  talk  to  me." 

He  cocked  his  head  and  listened  and  nodded; 
then  triumphantly  announced: 

"Now  I  have  i't.  Send  warriors  along  the 
river  bank  toward  Fort  Union.  Before  they  come 
in  sight  of  the  fort  they  will  find  two  keelboats 
tied  to  the  bank.  The  boats  probably  will  be 
hidden  in  the  bull-berry  bushes.  They  must  look 
very  sharp.  They  must  untie  one  of  these  boats 
and  take  it  up-river  to  the  place-of-building-boats. 
There  they  will  find  a  broken  boat. 

"The  Water  Spirit  says  there  is  big  medicine  in 


MEDICINE  FOR  THE  LANCE      301 

the  broken  boat  but  that  it  can  not  work  until  the 
sick  boat  has  the  strong  boat  fastened  to  the  sick 
boat,  then  will  my  medicine  work  and  drive  out 
the  Water  Spirit  from  the  Lance/' 

Gauche  never  dreamed  of  doubting  this  diag- 
nosis and  cure.  His  savage  mind  fed  on  the 
things  i't  had  created.  It  appealed  to  him  as  being 
extremely  logical  that  the  Water  Spirit  should 
grieve  over  the  wounded  boat  and  should  torment 
some  Assiniboin  warrior  until  an  undamaged  boat 
was  brought  to  keep  company  with  the  broken 
one.  He  left  the  tent  to  send  men  after  the  hid- 
den craft,  and  the  moment  the  camp  beheld  him 
shouts  were  raised. 

*'What  do  they  say?'*  asked  Lander. 

Bridger  produced  a  bottle  of  fever  medicine 
and  forced  several  swallows  down  the  sick  man's 
throat. 

"That  will  give  him  a  jolt,  I  reckon,"  he 
grimly  mused.  "What  are  they  saying?  Oh,  not 
much  of  anything.  Some  say  the  Lance  is  sick 
because  he  is  a  coward.  Others  say  the  tribe's 
medicine  is  against  his  being  with  Gauche's  band 
and  that  the  Aricaras  would  have  been  whipped 
if  he  hadn't  been  along.  The  most  of  'em  don't 
give  a  hang  for  the  Lance —      Ah." 


302        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"What?" 

Bridger  frowned, 

"One  of  the  head  men  is  asking  Gauche  if  we 
are  to  be  let  go  without  paying  a  big  price.  He 
says  we  do  not  belong  to  the  fort ;  that  the  Assini- 
boins  would  be  fools  if  they  didn't  make  a  profit 
out  of  us.  Now  Gauche  is  talking  but  I  can  not 
hear  him  well —  Bufler  V  beaver!  Hear  'em 
now !  That  means  he's  made  'em  mad — that  he's 
told  'em  we're  to  go  without  paying  any  ransom. 
He's  the  boss  an'  his  word  is  law — let  'em  howl 
all  they  want  to.  There's  just  one  thing  that'll 
make  him  change  his  mind  an*  treat  us  like  dirt" 

"If  we  fail  to  cure  this  man/*  said  Lander. 

"Not  by  a  dem  sight.  If  his  warriors  don't 
find  that  keelboat.  Talk  to  your  medicine,  boy, 
an'  git  it  to  working.  They  just  got  to  find 
that  boat" 

He  lifted  a  finger  and  turned  to  the  sick  man. 
Gauche  glided  in,  his  dark  face  scowling. 

"Some  of  my  men  talk  like  fools,"  he  growled. 
"Some  of  them  will  go  hunting  their  uncles  among 
the  spirits.  They  forget  I  am  the  Left  Hand, 
that  I  am  Mina-Yougha  the  Knife-Holder  and 
Wakontonga  the  Great  Medicine.  It  comes  of 
taking  them  to  the  white  man's  fort. 


MEDICINE  FOR  THE  LANCE      303 

"The  man  McKenzie  thinks  to  make  any  trade 
by  treating  my  warriors  as  if  they  were  chiefs. 
They  forget  I  can  make  black  medicine." 

"Do  they  go  to  find  the  boat?"  asked  Bridger 
anxiously. 

"They  go.  My  white  brother's  medicine  must 
have  eyes  Hke  the  eagle  to  see  so  fan  He  shall 
give  me  the  medicine  that  drives  out  the  Water 
Spirit  and  I  will  not  ask  for  gifts  from  the  canoe- 
that-walks-on-the-water.  When  does  the  big 
spirit  leave  the  Lance  ?" 

Bridger  glanced  at  the  flushed  face  of  the  suf- 
ferer and  recalled  cases  he  had  treated  among  his 
trappers.  His  answer  must  be  a  gamble  at  the 
best,  as  he  did  not  know  how  long  it  would 
require  for  the  men  to  find  the  boat  and  work  it 
up  to  the  chantier^  But  Gauche  was  waiting,  his 
small  eyes  demanding  an  immediate  answer. 

"When  your  young  men  come  back  and  say  the 
boat  is  in  its  place  the  spirit  will  leave  him," 
Bridger  calmly  assured. 

"Wait  here.  I  will  see  a  tent  is  made  ready 
for  you,"  said  the  chief.  This  time  he  was  gone 
but  a  few  minutes.  They  followed  him  to  a  tent 
pitched  within  twoscore  feet  of  the  sick  man's. 
Motioning  them  to  enter,  he  left  them. 


304        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

Inside  was  a  kettle  of  water  and  some  dried 
buffalo-meat.  Before  the  entrance  was  fuel  and 
two  crotched  sticks  on  which  to  hang  the  kettle. 
Bridger  measured  out  some  medicine  into  a 
wooden  dish  and  diluted  it  with  water  and  placed 
it  near  the  door.  Then  he  lighted  a  fire  and  hung 
the  kettle. 

"Going  to  try  and  cook  that  stuff?"  asked  Lan- 
der in  huge  disgust,  pointing  to  the  dried  meat. 

"No,  no.  That's  good  just  as  it  is,"  said 
Bridger,  catching  up  a  strip  and  working  his 
strong,  white  teeth  through  it.  "Doesn't  smell 
very  bad,  either." 

"Ugh!    Then  why  the  hot  water?" 

"That  sick  cuss  has  fever  an'  chills.  I've  got 
to  bu'st  it  up  during  the  night.  I  give  him  a 
mighty  strong  dose — full  strength.  'Nough  to 
make  a  horse  sweat.  Now  I  must  git  to  him  again 
in  'bout  two  hours.  I  need  lots  of  hot  water. 
See  those  devils  scowl  at  us." 

The  last,  as  a  band  of  warriors  paraded  by  the 
tent  at  a  respectful  distance  and  lowered  blackly 
at  the  white  men. 

"Never  a  Injun  had  more  power  over  so  many 
men  in  this  valley  as  Gauche  has  had  over  his 
band,"   ruminated  Bridger.     "But  the  old  cuss 


MEDICINE  FOR  THE  LANCE      305 

has  it  right  when  he  says  he  may  lose  his  grip 
because  of  the  men  getting  to  the  fort. 

"The  A.  F.  C.  makes  a  heap  of  'em  when  they 
bring  in  a  good  trade.  They  always  start  their 
liquor  trade  at  dark  an'  keep  it  up  all  night.  Old 
Gauche  has  a  tin  dipper  which  he  never  lets  go 
of,  an'  he  rushes  in  an'  out  an'  gits  beastly  drunk, 
an'  keeps  so.  When  he's  drunk  his  authority  slips 
a  trifle.  His  men,  being  drunk,  say  an'  do  things 
they  wouldn't  dast  do  before  him  when  sober,  an' 
they  ain't  made  to  suffer.  This  has  been  going 
on  ever  since  the  A.  F.  C.  got  active  up  here  a 
few  years  ago. 

"Gauche's  men  are  beginning  to  wonder  if  he's 
much  better'n  they  be.  He's  always  held  'em  in 
check  by  his  reputation  as  a  medicine  man,  poi- 
soner and  worker  in  magic.  But  the  first  time  he 
led  his  band  to  Fort  Union  an'  stopped  outside  to 
vermilion  an'  dress  up  an'  hear  the  cannon  shot 
off  in  his  honor  he  was  losing  a  bit  of  his  power. 

"Three  years  ago  there  wasn't  a  mian  in  his 
band  that  would  'a'  dared  to  give  him  any  lip. 
Now  he's  kept  everlastingly  at  it  to  think  up 
games  where  he  can  run  off  some  Blackfeet  horses 
an'  lift  some  Sioux  hair  so's  they'll  stick  to  him 
as  a  big  chief. 


3o6        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"His  trip  down-river  give  his  standing  an 
awful  jolt.  They  blame  his  medicine  for  the  lick- 
ing. He  thought  to  make  'em  forgit  by  corral- 
ling us  an'  gittin'a  big  ransom,  but  the  Lance 
blocks  that  game.  If  the  Lance  dies  the  Lance's 
band  will  blame  him,  an'  say  he  poisoned  the  cuss. 
He's  just  got  to  cure  the  Lance  or  have  trouble. 
With  his  own  men  gitting  sassy  he  can't  afford 
to  let  that  happen." 

"If  the  Lance  gets  well  he'll  probably  hold  us 
for  ransom  just  the  same,"  observed  Lander. 

"He'll  have  to  be  crowded  awful  hard  before 
he'd  do  that.  First  place,  he'd  be  afraid  of  my 
medicine.  Second  place,  he  knows  he  can't  go 
only  'bout  so  far  before  McKenzie  would  have  to 
call  a  halt.  But  if  McKenzie  Tarns  'bout  the  bea- 
ver packs  he  won't  call  a  halt  till  he's  got  his  paws 
on  'em.  I'm  going  to  git  out  of  this  camp  to-mor- 
rer  if  I  have  to  take  Gauche  up  in  front  of  me." 

Lander  worried  down  some  of  the  tough  meat 
while  Bridger  ate  heartily.  Groups  of  warriors 
kept  passing  the  tent  and  eying  it  malevolently. 
Bridger  ignored  them  but  Lander  shifted  his  knife 
from  boot  to  belt  and  would  have  felt  more  at 
ease  had  Gauche  been  with  them.  The  chief, 
however,  had  disappeared. 


MEDICINE  FOR  THE  LANCE      307 

As  the  darkness  settled  over  the  camp  Bridger 
commented  on  Gauche's  absence  and  explained  it 
by  saying: 

"He's  gone  off  alone  somewheres  to  make  new 
medicine.  No  good  comes  of  shifting  your  medi- 
cines the  way  he  does.  Git  a  good  one  and  stick 
to  it  It  may  git  lame  when  it  meets  a  stronger 
medicine ;  but  if  it  averages  up  well  that's  all  you 
can  ask. 

"Jim  Baker  swapped  his  medicine  for  a 
spotted  Cheyenne  pony  once.  Pony  bu'sted  a  leg 
next  day  an'  the  Injun  who'd  took  the  medicine 
sneaked  in  an'  stole  Jim's  rifle.  Just  plumb  fool- 
ishness." 

"But  if  he  don't  come  back  his  men  will  get 
rough,"  said  Lander. 

"Sure  to.  But  listen  to  me;  no  matter  what 
they  try^  you  keep  calm  an'  act  like  you  didn't 
know  they  was  round.  Time  enough  to  make  a 
fight  when  you  see  me  letting  out." 

By  degrees  the  camp  quieted  down  and  Lander 
believed  they  were  to  have  a  quiet  night  despite 
the  chiefs  absence,  when  a  long  howl  down  by^ 
the  river  bank  caused  him  to  start  nervously. 
They  were  sitting  before  their  tent.  As  the  out- 
cry continued  Bridger  rose  and  entered  the  tent 


3o8        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

and  called  Lander  after  him.  Then  he  fixed  the 
flap  in  place. 

"It's  hot  and  stuffy/'  complained  Lander,  feel- 
ing about  and  locating  a  buffalo-robe  and  sitting 
down. 

"Just  remember  my  orders.  Don't  show  fight 
till  I  give  the  word,"  quietly  replied  Bridger. 

Now  the  noise  by  the  river  increased  in  volume. 
Bridged  informed : 

"Some  of  the  bucks  have  fetched  liquor  from 
Fort  Union." 

The  two  sat  and  waited  while  the  bedlam  drew 
nearer.  Lander  was  puzzled  in  following  the 
course  of  the  hideous  chorus.  It  would  sweep 
toward  them,  then  lessen  in  intensity,  only  to  pass 
to  one  side  with  renewed  volume.  Bridger 
lighted  his  pipe  and  explained : 

"They're  feasting  from  lodge  to  lodge,  giving 
rum  to  each  tent  and  asking  the  people  to  join 
'em.    They'll  be  here  by  'n'  by." 

"And  shall  we  wait?" 

"Best  thing  to  do.  Fetch  in  some  of  the  dry 
wood.  I'll  make  a  fire  an'  open  the  smoke-hole. 
Leave  the  flap  back.  We'll  give  'em  a  chance  to 
see." 

All  this  was  bewildering  to  Lander,  but  if  Jim 


MEDICINE  FOR  THE  LANCE      309 

Bridger  did  not  know  how  to  handle  the  situation 
no  man  in  the  mountains  or  in  the  Missouri  Val- 
ley did.  So  he  obeyed  and  Bridger  soon  had  a 
small  blaze  burning  inside  the  tent  which  brightly 
illuminated  the  interior.  The  flap  was  fastened 
wide  open.  Bridger  then  seated  himself  near  the 
opening  and  motioned  for  Lander  to  sit  by  his 
side. 

"Here  they  come,"  he  warned.  "Full  of 
A.  F.  C.  liquor  an'  natural  cussedness.  Don't 
pay  any  attention  to  'em." 

With  a  rush  and  an  inferno  of  yells  the  dusky 
band  swept  around  the  tent  and  howled  fero- 
ciously. Bridger  smoked  on  placidly  and  between 
puffs  talked  to  Lander^  who  sat  with  bowed  head 
as  if  listening  intently. 

Several  bucks  ran  up  and  thrust  their  heads 
through  the  opening  but  neither  of  the  white  men 
seemed  to  see  them.  One  of  the  intruders  reached 
in  with  his  knife  and  slashed  it  within  a  few 
inches  of  Bridger's  head  but  the  veteran  gave  no 
heed  to  the  threat.  From  the  corner  of  his  eye 
Lander  beheld  a  knife-blade  slice  through  the 
rear  of  the  tent  and  nudged  Bridger. 

"Never  mind  little  things  like  that,"  drawled 
Bridger.    "They've  got  quite  a  few  things  they'll 


3IO        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

try.  They  don't  just  dare  to  kill  us,  but  if  they 
can  make  us  show  fight  they'll  dare  anything." 

Fascinated  and  with  his  heart  galloping  fu- 
riously, Lander  watched  the  knife.  Now  it  was 
reenforced  by  other  knives  and  amid  horrible 
yelling  the  back  of  the  tent  was  slit  to  ribbons. 
Ferocious  faces  appeared  in  the  openings  and 
fairly  spat  at  them.  One  man,  in  a  delirium  of 
rage,  contented  himself  with  thrusting  his  body 
half-way  into  the  tent  and  stabbing  and  hacking 
the  ground  with  his  knife,  all  the  time  emitting 
the  most  devilish  shrieks. 

''Trying  to  scare  us  into  stampeding,"  lazily 
informed  Bridger.  "Now  sit  tight  an'  don't 
budge  a  muscle.     They  won't  shoot  at  us." 

The  warning  was  timely,  else  Lander  would 
have  leaped  to  his  feet  to  sell  his  life  dearly. 
Several  bucks  tlirust  their  guns  through  the  tent 
and  discharged  them  into  the  fire,  blowing  coals 
and  ashes  all  about 

"That's  why  I  made  a  blaze/'  Bridger  cheer- 
fully explained.  "If  it  had  been  dark  they'd  'a' 
hit  us.'' 

As  if  acting  on  a  prearranged  signal  the  band 
now  rushed  close  to  the  front  of  the  tent  and 
ripped  off  a  hide  in  order  to  expose  more  fully 


'Now  sit  tight  an'  don't  budge  a  muscle. 


MEDICINE  FOR  THE  LANCE      311 

the  prisonera  With  knives  brandishing  and  guns 
pointing  they  crouched  low  and  howled  in  the 
faces  of  the  white  men.  Never  by  so  much  as  a 
quiver  of  an  eyelash  did  Bridger  give  evidence  of 
knowing  they  were  there. 

Lander,  by  keeping  his  gaze  lowered  while  he 
traced  patterns  with  his  finger  on  the  ground, 
also  managed  to  simulate  entire  indifference. 
There  came  one  more  volley  into  the  coals  of  the 
fire,  a  final  surging  forward,  a  last  crescendo  of 
inarticulate  cries,  then  as  one  the  visitors  fled 
back  to  the  river  bank  and  their  cache  of  rum. 

*'Thafs  over,"  mused  Bridger  with  a  sigh  of 
relief,  and  now  the  sweat  began  dotting  his  fore- 
head. 

"Pawnees  tried  it  on  me  a  few  years  ago,  but 
they  didn't  have  any  rum,  just  pure  ugly,  an* 
they  didn't  go  as  far  as  these  fellows  did.  Fine 
for  the  sick  man!  Reckon  111  slip  in  an'  give 
him  a  hot  dose." 

Not  relishing  to  remain  alone,  Lander  went 
with  him.  With  coals  from  their  fire  they 
ignited  a  handful  of  dry  twigs  and  by  the  light 
of  these  Bridger  held  up  the  patient's  head  and 
forced  him  to  drink  a  dish  of  hot  water,  reen- 
forced  with  medicine  from  the  medicine-case. 


312        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

The  Lance  showed  no  improvement  that  Lan- 
der could  detect  but  Bridger  nodded  in  approval : 

"He's  quit  groaning.  Ain't  begun  to  sweat  yet 
but  we'll  fetch  him  before  morning." 

During  the  night  Bridger  visited  his  patient 
several  times  to  dose  him  with  hot  drinks.  The 
Lance  continued  to  rest  easy  although  his  skin 
remained  hot  and  dry. 

Near  morning  Gauche  came  to  the  white  men's 
tent  badly  spent.  He  said  he  had  been  far  from 
the  river  making  medicine. 

*T  made  two  medicines/'  he  explained,  watch- 
ing Bridger  furtively.  "One  was  for  a  war-party 
against  the  Blackfeet.  I  know  where  and  when 
forty  lodges  with  the  white  man  Berger  will  pass 
down  the  river  on  the  way  to  Fort  Union.  I  shall 
send  a  talk  to  McKenzie  to  keep  inside  his  fort. 
We  do  not  want  to  hurt  any  of  his  people  by 
mistake. 

"My  medicine  tells  me  that  if  I  wait  until  the 
Blackfeet  have  commenced  drinking  we  can  kill 
them  all  and  run  off  all  their  horses.  Then  will 
the  Assiniboins  know  my  medicine  is  not  sick 
like  an  old  man." 

"Your  other  medicine?"  demanded  Bridger 
suspiciously. 


MEDICINE  FOR  THE  LANCE      313 

"I  made  that  to  make  the  Lance  strong  again." 
"Then  that  is  why  my  medicine  did  not  cure 
him  last  night,"  sternly  cried  Bridger.  "Burn 
or  throw  away  that  last  medicine,  or  I  will  let 
the  man  die.  Take  the  war-path  and  get  a  new 
name  by  killing  Blackfeet,  but  stop  opening  your 
medicine-bag  toward  the  Lance,  or  I  will  tell  the 
Indians  of  your  nation  that  you  killed  the  Lance." 
"My  medicine  wanted  to  help,"  muttered 
Gauche.  "If  it  will  not  work  with  your  medicine 
I  will  bum  it." 

He  rose  and,  bending  over  the  fire,  secretly 
opened  a  skin  pouch  and  reluctantly  allowed  the 
contents  to  drop  into  the  flames.  The  whites 
caught  the  odor  of  burning  feathers.  Rising, 
Gauche  asked : 

"Now,  when  will  the  Water  Spirit  leave  him  ?" 
"Very  soon.     Some  time  before  the  sun  goes 
down,"  assured  Bridger. 


Chapter  XIII 

PHINNY  COMES  AND  GOES 

T^HE  inactivity  was  most  distressing  to 
*  Lander.  He  pictured  Papa  Clair  arriving 
with  the  packs.  He  saw  men  from  the  fort  dis- 
covering them  and  reporting  the  news  to  McKen- 
zie.  By  this  time  Lander^s  friendship  for 
Bridger  was  so  partizan  he  would  feel  defeat  as 
keenly  as  would  his  patron. 

**Why  not  give  that  Indian  more  medicine  and 
have  it  over  with  ?''  he  asked  of  Bridger,  who  was 
lounging  outside  their  ruined  tent,  smoking  and 
watching  the  Assiniboins  recovering  from  the 
night's  debauch. 

'There's  one  big  reason,"  Bridger  simply 
replied.  "I've  told  Gauche  that  the  Water  Spirit 
would  quit  the  Lance  when  the  keelboat  was 
back  at  the  chantier.  I've  been  shaving  down  on 
the  hot  drinks  till  I  could  know  the  bucks  have 
Had  time  to  find  the  boat  an'  take  it  up-river.    I 

314 


PHINNY  COMES  AND  GOES       315 

want  to  hold  back  the  cure  till  the  boat's  been 
returned. 

"IVe  got  to  ding*  it  into  Gauche's  Injun  head 
that  it  was  my  medicine  what  did  the  work.  If 
he  gits  the  notion  he  had  a  hand  in  it  he  might 
think  his  medicine  was  so  strong  he  could  hold 
us  for  ransom.    He's  tricky  as  a  snake. 

"This  waiting  business  would  fret  me  all  up  if 
I  let  it,  but  I  believe  in  my  luck.  This  band  done 
its  worst  when  it  fooled  round  our  tent  last  night. 
They  won't  try  to  stop  our  going  less  Gauche 
tells  'em  to.  They're  sick  from  the  rum  an'  have 
lost  lots  of  interest  in  lots  of  things.  Funny  that 
McKenzie's  liquor  should  help  us  out  of  this 
scrape." 

One  of  the  leading  warriors  approached  and 
stared  at  the  ruined  tent  and  said : 

"The  white  men  had  trouble  in  the  night." 

"No  trouble,"  said  Bridger.  "Some  boys  made 
a  noise.    That  is  all." 

The  man  retired  and  passed  the  word  that  the 
white  men  were  very  stout  of  heart.  Bridget 
visited  the  sick  man^  The  Lance  had  his  eyes 
open  and  his  gaze  was  normal.  Bridger  placed 
a  hand  on  his  head  and  felt  the  perspiration  start- 
ing at  the  roots  of  the  coarse,  thick  hair. 


3i6         KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

The  Liance  eyed  him  wonderingly  when  he 
lifted  him  up  and  gave  him  a  drink  of  water.  To 
be  ministered  to  by  a  white  man  was  a  new 
experience. 

"Where  is  the  Left  Hand  ?"  he  faintly  asked. 

"He  makes  war-medicine  against  the  Black- 
feet." 

"He  was  making  medicine  against  the  sickness 
in  me  when  I  went  into  the  black  sleep." 

"His  medicine  was  weak.  He  had  to  have  the 
white  man's  medicine  to  make  you  well.  Before 
sunset  my  medicine  will  drive  the  evil  spirit  from 
you  if  you  do  as  I  say." 

"It  is  good." 

"You  are  not  to  speak  nor  open  your  eyes  if 
Gauche  enters  this  tent.  When  I  tell  you  that 
you  are  well,  then  you  can  talk." 

"It  is  good." 

Bridger  returned  to  Lander  and  found  him 
trying  to  make  a  midday  meal  out  of  com  and 
beans.  The  mountain  man  ate  heartily  of  the 
dried  meat.  Gauche  was  busy  circulating  among 
his  warriors  in  an  effort  to  arouse  their  enthu- 
siasm for  a  raid  against  the  Blackfeet.  He  kept 
repeating  to  them: 

"I   made  medicine   against  the  Blackfeet.     I 


PHINNY  COMES  AND  GOES       317 

(ireamed  last  night  and  saw  much  blood  on  the 
Blackfeet.  There  was  no  blood  on  the  Assini- 
boins.  I  saw  many  signs  of  Blackfoot  horses, 
and  all  the  trails  led  to  the  camp  of  the  Left 
Hand.  Be  ready  with  many  arrows  and  your 
bows.  Let  those  who  have  guns  save  their 
powder." 

It  was  not  until  late  afternoon  that  he  came 
to  Bridger.  There  was  a  peculiar  glitter  in  his 
wicked  little  eyes,  and  for  a  moment  Bridger 
feared  he  had  found  some  rum  and  was  com- 
mencing a  drunk  that  might  lead  him  into  the 
vilest  treachery.  It  was  excitement,  however, 
rather  than  liquor  that  had  fired  the  chief. 

Before  speaking  he  passed  into  the  sick  man's 
tent  and  for  nearly  a  minute  stared  down  on  the 
closed  eyes  of  the  Lance.  So  far  as  appearances 
went  the  man  might  be  dead.  Coming  back  to 
Bridger  he  said : 

"The  Lance  lies  very  quiet.  I  could  not  see 
that  he  breathed.  My  young  men  have  come  back 
to  say  the  boat  is  in  its  place  up  the  river.  I  have 
told  my  warriors  to  come  here  and  see  the  white 
man's  medicine  drive  the  Water  Spirit  from  the 
Lance.  I  hope  the  white  man's  medicine  is  ready 
to  work.    The  Lance  looks  like  a  dead  man." 


3i8        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

Bridger  put  his  pipe  in  the  hanger  about  his 
neck,  stretched  his  arms  and  drawled : 

"The  medicine  is  ready.  But  it  must  hear  the 
young  men  speak  about  the  boat.  It  can  not 
hear  you  say  it.    Send  for  them/* 

As  he  had  expected  Gauche  acted  as  his  own 
messenger,  there  being  none  of  his  men  at  hand. 
The  moment  he  disappeared  Bridger  was  galvan- 
ized into  action.  He  prepared  more  fever  medi- 
cine in  hot  water  and  took  it  to  the  Lance  and 
had  him  drink  it.  Then  he  covered  him  with 
extra  buffalo-robes.  Hurrying  back  to  Lander, 
who  was  nervously  awaiting  the  climax,  he  coolly 
informed : 

'T'll  have  the  taller  oozing  out  of  him  inside 
of  ten  minutes." 

"The  chief  thought  he  was  dead." 

"Playing  'possum.  See  that  the  rifles  are 
ready.    Then  try  to  smoke." 

A  confusion  of  voices  ran  through  the  tents. 
Men  began  to  appear  in  small  bands  and  make 
for  the  sick  man's  tent.  Gauche  had  passed  the 
word  that  the  Lance  was  dead  and  that  the  white 
men  proposed  bringing  him  back  to  life. 

Bridger  stood  with  his  back  to  the  excited 
svarriors.     One  of  the  headmen  started  to  enter 


PHINNY  COMES  AND  GOES       319 

the  tent,  but  Bridger  caught  him  t>y  the  arm  and 
hurled  him  back.  The  man's  hand  went  to  his 
ax,  but  fell  limp  as  Gauche  called  out :  "Be  afraid 
of  the  man  who  brings  the  dead  back  to  life !'' 

Then  the  chief  harangued  his  men.  He 
reminded  them  of  how  the  white  man's  medicine 
had  discovered  the  Water  Spirit  in  the  Lance, 
and  he  repeated  Bridger's  promise  that  the  sick 
should  be  strong  once  the  white  medicine  heard 
from  the  lips  of  the  young  men  that  the  boat  had 
been  returned  to  the  place-of-building-boats. 
And  for  good  measure  he  recalled  the  numerous 
instances  of  Assiniboin  braves  who  had  dared  set 
up  opposition  to  their  chief,  dying  of  mysterious 
sicknesses. 

There  was  a  deep  silence  after  the  speech, 
finally  broken  by  the  appearance  of  two  bucks, 
who  pushed  their  way  through  the  crowd  bruskly. 
These  were  the  spokesmen,  and  they  had  delayed 
their  arrival  in  order  to  extract  the  full  dramatic 
value  from  the  scene.  Halting  before  Bridger, 
they  haughtily  announced  the  completion  of  their 
errand. 

Bridger  turned  his  head  and  as  if  addressing 
some  invisible  agency  in  the  tent  rapidly  repeated 
their  words  in  English,  then  paused  as  if  listen- 


320        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

ing.  Drawing  himself  erect,  he  loudly  called: 
"The  Water  Spirit  is  now  leaving  the  Lance. 
Stay  where  you  are  and  watch." 

He  lifted  the  flap  behind  him  and  entered  the 
oven-like  atmosphere  and  kneeled  beside  the 
Lance.  The  man  was  panting  painfully  and  in 
a  reeking  sweat  from  the  fever  medicine  and 
heavy  robes.  He  gasped  for  water  and  Bridger 
allowed  him  to  drink  his  fill  from  a  kettle. 

"You  are  well,"  informed  Bridger,  throwing 
aside  the  robes.  "Stand  up  and  show  the  Assini- 
boins  how  the  white  man's  medicine  works." 

Assisted  by  the  mountain  man  the  Lance  man- 
aged to  gain  his  feet.  With  a  hand  under  his 
elbow  to  steady  him  he  was  guided  to  the  open- 
ing, Bridger  directing  in  a  low  voice. 

"You  will  tell  them  the  fires  no  longer  bum 
inside  you.  You  will  tell  them  you  are  strong, 
but  very  sleepy.  Then  you  will  return  to  your 
robes  and  drink  some  soup  and  rest  for  a  day. 
To-morrow  you  will  be  strong  and  go  and  come 
a  man." 

The  Lance  forgot  Ke  was  weak'  and  famished. 
Thoroughly  believing  a  powerful  medicine  had 
effected  the  cure,  he  felt  himself  a  figure  of  mucK 
importance.    His  shoulders  squared  and  his  eyes 


PHINNY  COMES  AND  GOES       321 

grew  steady  as  he  flung  back  the  flap  of  skin  and 
confronted  the  mass  of  warriors.  Nor  did  his 
voice  fail  him,  but  rang  out  in  its  usual  volume 
as  he  proclaimed:  "The  Lance  has  been  dead. 
He  is  alive.  He  was  weak.  Now  he  is  strong. 
There  are  no  fires  in  his  body.  The  white  man's 
medicine  put  them  out.  I  go  back  to  eat  and 
sleep.  Then  I  will  be  ready  to  take  the  path  again 
against  the  enemies  of  the  Assiniboins.'* 

The  Indians  clapped  their  hands  to  their 
mouths,  their  gesture  to  express  amazement,  as 
they  looked  on  one  who,  Gauche  had  said,  was 
dead.  The  Lance  retreated,  and  as  the  flap  fell, 
shutting  him  in  from  the  view  of  the  warriors, 
he  fell  into  Bridger's  arms.  The  mountain  man 
placed  him  on  his  robes  and  gave  him  more  water. 
Opening  the  top  of  the  tent  to  create  a  draft,  he 
drew  back  the  flap  over  the  opening  and  hurried 
to  his  tent. 

The  Assiniboins  eyed  him  with  much  awe,  their 
hands  clapping  to  their  mouths.  Verily  his  medi- 
cine was  mighty.  If  he  would  come  and  live  with 
the  Assiniboins  the  nation  would  drive  the  Black- 
feet  beyond  the  mountains.  They  had  seen  him 
take  a  man  burned  and  parched  like  a  fragment 
of  sun-scorched  hide  and  overnight  turn  him  out 


322        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

moist  with  sweat,  ready  to  eat  and  sleep,  and 
eager  to  fight. 

Addressing  Gauche,  who  had  followed  him, 
and  speaking  loudly  for  the  benefit  of  all,  Bridger 
said :  "Now  we  have  cured  your  sick  we  will  go. 
Last  night  my  medicine  told  me  that  you  had 
made  a  new  medicine,  one  that  was  very  strong 
and  would  bring  you  many  horses  and  Black- 
feet  scalps.     Now  we  want  our  horses  at  once." 

"If  the  white  men  will  rest  one  sleep — " 
Gauche  began. 

"Then  the  Lance  would  fall  sick  again.  My 
medicine  says  it  must  go,"  cut  in  Bridger.  "Bring 
our  horses." 

Gauche  gave  an  order  and  the  two  animals 
were  produced.  Taking  their  rifles,  the  white 
men  led  their  horses  through  the  camp,  nor  did 
they  hear  any  voice  demanding  they  be  held  for 
ransom.  Not  until  they  were  well  beyond  the 
tents  did  they  mount.  Bridger  rode  rapidly  for 
the  river  and  would  have  turned  up-stream  had 
not  the  sound  of  music  caused  him  to  rein  in  and 
stare,  down  the  river-road  in  amazement. 

"That  ain't  no  Injun  music !"  he  exclaimed. 

"Drums,  bells,  violin  and  a  clarionet,"  checked 
off  Lander,  his  eyes  lighting. 


PHINNY  COMES  AND  GOES       323 

"White  men  from  the  fort,"  muttered  Bridger, 
riding  toward  the  music. 

Soon  they  sighted  them — a  band  of  white  men, 
mounted  and  playing  their  instruments  as  they 
rode.  The  music  was  most  sweet  in  the  ears  of 
the  trappers,  and  for  a  moment  Bridger  forgot  to 
wonder  at  its  coming. 

"Look  who  rides  behind!"  softly  cried  out 
Lander. 

"I  see  'em,"  murmured  Bridger,  watching  the 
figures  of  McKenzie  and  Phinny.  "Remember 
— not  a  sign  or  a  word  to  Phinny  that  you  sus- 
pect him,"  warned  Bridger.  "The  music  ain't 
for  us.    Must  be  for  the  Injuns." 

In  this  surmise  he  was  correct,  for  on  sighting 
him  McKenzie  showed  surprise,  then  spurred 
ahead,  and  jovially  explained: 

"A  little  treat  for  the  Assiniboins.  It  tickles 
old  Gauche's  fancy.  We  don't  lose  anything  by 
humoring  him.  When  we  get  him  we  get  all  his 
people." 

"Mighty  good  notion,"  admitted  Bridger. 

Then  with  a  little  smile  he  reminded :  "An'  the 
A.  F.  C.  never  goes  after  the  Injuns.  Just  let's 
'em  come  to  the  fort  or  stay  away." 

McKenzie  scowled  but  instantly  retorted: 


324        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

"This  display  isn't  to  fetch  trade  to  Fort  Union'. 
It's  to  keep  peace.  I  got  word  that  Gauche  plans 
to  attack  a  party  of  Blackfeet  that's  coming  in 
with  Jacob  Berger.  I  must  stop  it.  I've  worked 
too  hard  to  get  the  Blackfeet  to  come  to  me  to 
have  it  spoiled  by  that  old  reprobate's  actions." 

"Why  if  here  isn't  Phinny!"  exclaimed  Bridger 
as  Phinny  now  rode  up.    "Howdy,  Phinny." 

"We  meet  again,  Malcom,"  called  out  Lander 
cordially. 

Phinny  who  had  been  watching  them  through' 
half-closed  lids,  now  wreathed  his  dark  face  with 
smiles. 

"Lord,  Lander !  But  wasn't  I  glad  when  Black 
Arrow's  band  arrived  at  the  Crow  village  and 
said  you  had  escaped  from  the  Blackfeet  and  was 
on  your  way  to  Fort  Union.  I'm  awfully  glad 
to  see  you. 

"And,  Mr.  Bridger,  no  hard  feelings  I  hope 
because  I've  hired  Ferguson  to  work  for  us  with 
the  Crows.  He  wanted  the  place.  He  felt  it 
was  more  steady  than  working  for  a  company 
that  goes  after  beaver  only." 

"That's  all  right,"  assured  Bridger.  "I've  got 
plenty  of  men  who'll  go  and  make  opposition  to 
him.     The  Crows  think  a  heap  of  me.     Don't 


PHINNY  COMES  AND  GOES       325 

make  much  difference  what  man  I  send  there.  I 
let  Ferguson  have  it  as  he  was  begging  for  a  job. 
But  as  you  say  H.  B.  men  are  better  fitted  for  the 
A.  F.  C.  post-trade  than  for  going  after  beaver 
for  my  company.'' 

McKenzie  ordered  the  musicians  to  go  on  to 
the  camp  and  hold  the  Indians  from  filling  the 
river-trail.    Then  he  anxiously  asked : 

"What  became  of  you  two  ?  You  started  to  get 
the  boat  yesterday  morning.  ,We've  been  wor- 
ried about  you," 

**The  Deschamps  gang  and  some  of  the  Rems 
corralled  us  yesterday  morning  and  held  us  for 
ransom.  Old  woman  decoyed  us  to  their  cabin 
by  saying  one  of  the  men  was  sick  an'  needed 
help.    They're  a  bad  mess." 

McKenzie  cursed  in  genuine  rage. 

"They've  got  to  be  wiped  out,"  he  fiercely 
declared.  "I've  stood  lots  from  the  Deschamps 
and  Rem  families.  I've  winked  at  quite  a  few 
things  as  they  were  handy  as  interpreters.  But 
I'm  through.  I'm  sorry  Gardepied  didn't  make 
good  his  threat  and  kill  old  Deschamps.  My 
men  at  the  fort  won't  stand  any  more  nonsense 
from  that  crowd.    Where  are  you  going  now  ?" 

"We  stopped  here  last  night  to  cure  La  Lance 


326        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

of  a  fever.  We're  now  going  up  to  select  the 
boat  you  said  you'd  sell  us." 

*1  see,"  mused  McKenzie,  his  eyes  twinkling. 

And  Phinny  stared  at  the  river  as  if  greatly 
interested  in  its  muddy  current. 

"I  did  agree  to  sell  you  the  best  boat  at  the 
chantier,  didn't  I  ?"  McKenzie  continued.  "Well, 
I'll  keep  my  word,  although  it  may  cramp  my 
plans.  Hard  to  choose  between  friendship  and 
business,  Mr.  Bridger.  Lucky  I  didn't  promise 
some  of  those  down  the  river.  Since  you  went 
away  I'm  called  on  to  use  all  I  have." 

"I  don't  want  to  hold  you  to  a  promise  that 
really  fusses  you,"  gravely  said  Bridger.  "If 
you  want  to  be  let  off " 

"No,  no,"  hastily  broke  in  McKenzie.  "No 
one  shall  say  Kenneth  McKenzie  went  back  on 
his  word.  I  told  you  you  could  buy  any  boat  up 
there.  I'll  even  go  with  you.  Some  of  my  men 
might  be  there  and  not  understand.  They'd  for- 
bid your  taking  it.    One  boat  was  the  bargain. 

"Phinny,  ride  after  the  men  and  see  that  they 
start  for  the  fort  after  they've  tickled  up  the 
chief.  Tell  that  old  villain  to  take  his  men  and 
camp  nearer  the  fort  and  that  I'll  fire  the  cannon 
as  a  salute  to  his  greatness.    The  scoundrel !    If  I 


PHINNY  COMES  AND  GOES       327 

can  get  him  into  the  fort  and  drunk  I'll  stand 
some  show  of  getting*  word  to  Berger  to  hold 
the  Blackfeet  away  until  I  can  send  men  to  make 
the  trade." 

Lander  did  not  dare  glance  at  Bridger  for  fear 
McKenzie  would  read  the  question  burning  in  his 
eyes.  Had  Phinny  learned  about  the  packs? 
Was  McKenzie's  great  need  of  boats  due  in  part 
to  their  getting  hold  of  the  forty  packs  ?  Bridger 
was  putting  the  same  queries  to  himself,  although 
his  eyes  revealed  nothing. 

"It's  mighty  good  of  you  to  go  with  us," 
declared  Bridger.  "Only  wish  Phinny  could 
come  along." 

Phinny  flashed  his  teeth  in  a  smile,  darted  a 
glance  at  his  chief  and  regretted : 

^'Business  comes  first.  See  you  soon  at  the 
fort.  I've  got  lots  of  St.  Louis  news  to  talk  over 
with  you,  Lander.  Express  brought  up  some  let- 
ters while  I  was  at  the  Crow  village." 

There  was  a  taunt  in  this  although  Phinny's 
demeanor  seemed  to  breathe  good  fellowship 
only.  Lander  forced  a  smile  and  nodded. 
Bridger  understood  his  young  friend's  feelings 
and,  as  if  it  were  an  afterthought,  called  to 
Phinny :    "I  forgot  to  warn  you,  young  man,  that 


328        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

old  Deschamps  seems  to  think  youVe  tied  np  to 
that  wildcat  girl  of  his.  Look  out  for  a  knife 
when  you  meet  'em." 

The  smile  left  Phinny's  face.  "Hang  Des- 
champs!" he  muttered. 

"With  all  my  heart,"  agreed  Bridger. 

In  putting  the  man  on  his  guard  Bridger  had 
punished  him  for  plotting  misery  against  Lander. 
It  was  simple  enough  to  imagine  the  nature  of  the 
St.  Louis  gossip  Phinny  was  to  retail.  Included 
in  it  would  be  the  favoritism  of  Hurry-Up 
Parker  for  him,  and  the  intimation  that  he  was 
to  marry  Miss  Susette. 

The  moment  he  had  spoken,  however,  Bridger 
knew  he  had  scored  a  second  point.  Phinny 
would  keep  clear  of  the  breeds.  If  he  did  not 
already  .know  about  the  beaver  packs  it  was  a 
most  excellent  move  to  discourage  his  intimacy 
with  the  Deschamps.  The  breed,  having  failed  to 
secure  the  packs  for  himself,  would  be  inclined  to 
sell  his  secret  to  Phinny  or  McKenzie. 

Even  now  Papa  Qair  might  be  coming  down 
the  Yellowstone.  Could  Phinny  and  the  mixed- 
bloods  be  kept  apart  for  a  few  days — so  much  the 
better  for  the  Rocky  Mountain  Fur  Company's 
chances.  Always  provided,  of  course,  that  Phinny 


PHINNY  COMES  AND  GOES       329 

had  not  learned  the  truth  while  at  the  Crow 
village. 

McKenzie  was  most  affable  as  the  three  of 
them  galloped  up  the  trail  to  the  chantier.  He 
talked  on  a  wide  range  of  subjects,  but  always 
edged  back  to  Bridger's  intended  use  of  the  keel- 
boat.  The  mountain  man  stuck  to  his  original 
explanation  of  wishing  to  have  an  extra  boat  at 
Fort  Pierre.  Evidently  this  did  not  satisfy 
McKenzie.  While  a  most  businesslike  arrange- 
ment, it  did  not  account  for  Bridger's  haste  in 
securing  the  boat.  It  would  have  been  more  nat- 
ural for  Prevost  to  send  word  down  to  St.  Louis 
for  another  boat  to  be  towed  up  by  the  packet. 

But  here  was  Bridger  making  a  long  journey 
from  the  Sweetwater  to  the  Missouri  for  the  sole 
purpose  ostensibly  of  buying  a  keelboat.  McKen- 
zie refused  to  swallow  it.  On  the  other  hand, 
although  he  cudgeled  his  brain,  he  could  not  see 
what  use  Bridger  would  have  for  the  boat  above 
Fort  Pierre. 

Had  he  brought  pack-animals  the  answer 
would  have  been  simple.  But  Phinny — only 
Bridger  could  not  be  sure  of  this  yet — had  heard 
nothing  while  among  the  Crows  which  would 
tend  to  solve  the  problem. 


330        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

In  fact  he  had  been  amazed  on  reaching  the 
fort  to  learn  the  two  men  were  there  ahead  of 
him.  Bridger  was  shrewd  enough  to  detect  the 
suspicions  revolving  back  of  McKenzie's  sharp 
eyes,  and  he  was  pleased  to  believe  his  secret  was 
not  known. 

"The  boat-yard  is  right  ahead/'  said  McKen- 
zie  as  they  came  in  view  of  cleared  ground  along 
the  river  bank. 

He  pulled  his  horse  down  to  a  walk  and  smiled 
in  a  peculiar  fashion  at  the  mountain  man. 
Bridger  winked  gravely  at  Lander,  w^ho  was 
seized  with  a  desire  to  laugh.  McKenzie  con- 
tinued: "I'm  sorry  I  made  that  ipromise,  but  I 
always  keep  my  word.  Look  them  over  and  take 
your  pick.  You  must  be  satisfied  with  what  is 
here,  as  even  hospitality  and  my  warm  desire  to 
please  will  not  permit  me  to  go  an  inch  farther  in 
the  matter.  Loyalty  to  my  employers  draws  the 
line  rather  than  my  natural  inclination." 

This  well-rounded  sentiment  was  given  with 
much  unction  and  McKenzie's  long  upper  lip 
w^s  drawn  down  in  sanctimonious  regret  that  it 
must  be  so. 

A  fringe  of  willows  concealed  the  river-shore 
until   one   had   entered   the   clearing.      Leaving 


PHINNY  COMES  AND  GOES       331 

McKenzie  and  Lander,  Bridger  eagerly  pressed 
ahead  and  leaped  from  his  horse. 

**I  had  no  business  to  allow  my  admiration  for 
Mr.  Bridger  to  wring  any  promise  from  me/' 
McKenzie  said  to  Lander.  "But  he  has  a  way  of 
getting  what  he  wants.  Phinny  tells  me  you 
were  employed  in  the  A.  F.  C.  store  in  St.  Louis. 
You  should  have  remained.  Your  merit  would 
have  been  rewarded." 

"I  was  pitched  out^  neck  and  crop,"  Lander 
informed  him. 

"So,  so?  But  there  is  a  chance  of  your  return- 
ing— yes,  I  believe  I  am  warranted  in  saying  it, 
even  if  it  would  sound  better  coming  from  one 
of  my  superiors,  either  Mr.  Pierre  Chouteau,  or 
Gome  of  the  others;  I  have  some  influence  in  the 
St.  Louis  office. 

**Or  if  you  wish  you  can  stay  on  here  with  me. 
A  clerk,  say,  at  three  hundred,  to  stay  three  years. 
Next  year  I  could  give  you  a  hundred  more. 
Another  hundred  the  third  year.  We  want  young 
men  who  work  with  the  idea  of  becoming  part- 
ners in  the  company,  who  feel  they  are  a  part 
of  the  organization." 

"I'm  following  Mr.  Bridger  now,"  said  Lan- 
der.   "If  he  joins  the  A.  F.  C.  I  should  be  pleased 


332         KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

to  come  in  with  him.  He's  been  mighty  good 
to  me." 

"Well,  well.  Every  man  must  decide  on 
which  side  his  bread  is  buttered.  Mr.  Bridger 
seems  perplexed  over  the  boats." 

"He's  probably  trying  to  make  a  choice,"  Lan- 
der innocently  suggested,  his  lips  twitching. 

"I  hope  he  is  not  disappointed,"  mused 
McKenzie,  his  face  gravely  sympathetic. 

To  relieve  his  fears  Bridger  called :  "All  right, 
Mr.  McKenzie.  I'll  take  this  one.  Fact,  there 
ain't  only  one  choice.  T'other  one  seems  to  be 
bu'sted." 

"The  other  one — "  began  McKenzie.  "To  be 
sure ;  the  other  one  is  damaged.  I  had  forgotten 
that.    And  you  find  one  that — that  suits  ?" 

"It's  all  right,"  cheerily  cried  Bridger.  "Come 
down  and  look  it  over.  I  can't  see  anything 
wrong  'bout  it." 

Much  puzzled  and  deeply  disturbed  at  the  unex- 
pected presence  of  two  boats,  McKenzie  cantered 
into  the  clearing  and  rode  his  horse  down  to  the 
shelving  bank.  To  his  dismay  he  beheld  one  of 
his  best  keelboats.  It  was  one  of  the  two  he  had 
ordered  his  men  surreptitiously  to  remove.  But 
here  it  was — fast  beside  the  broken  boat. 


PHINNY  COMES  AND  GOES       333 

"Yes,  it  seems  to  be  all  right,"  he  mumbled, 
mopping"  his  forehead  with  a  gay  silk  handker- 
chief.   "Seems  to  be  all  right." 

And  in  his  heart  he  cursed  the  blunderers. 
"I'll  send  some  of  my  men  up  to  fetch  it  down 
for  you,"  he  added. 

"I'd  never  forgive  myself  if  I  took  any  more 
advantage  of  your  neighborly  kindness,"  earn- 
estly declared  Bridger.  "Lander  'n'  me  will  work 
it  down.    I'll  give  you  the  order  at  the  fort." 

"Come,  come^  Mr.  Bridger.  Never  do  work 
you  don't  need  to.  It's  a  bad  example  for  the 
engages  and  Indians,"  McKenzie  protested  with 
some  asperity.  "And  you  have  your  horses  to 
take  care  of." 

"Here  comes  one  of  your  musicians,  riding  like 
the  thunder !"  exclaimed  Lander,  recognizing  the 
drummer. 

The  horseman  came  up  at  a  gallop,  and,  yank- 
ing his  blown  mount  to  its  haunches,  excitedly 
cried  out:  "Th'  Deschamps  gang  has  murdered 
Mr.  Phinny.  One  of  Gauche's  men  found  him 
stabbed  to  death  half  a  mile  from  th'  Assiniboin 
camp.  Th'  Injun  read  th'  trail  an'  says  he  found 
tracks  of  a  Injun  woman's  moccasins." 

While    McKenzie    remained    speechless    with 


334         KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

horror  at  the  news  Bridger  yelped  out:  "What 
sort  of  a  knife  was  used?" 

''Dirk." 

"Then  th'  squaw  done  it — old  Deschamps' 
wildcat  girl.  She  tried  to  stick  a  dirk  into  me. 
The  old  man  said  Phinny  had  promised  to  keep 
her  as  his  woman.  She  probably  thought  he  was 
going  back  on  his  bargain." 

"This  is  terrible!"  groaned  McKenzie.  "I 
must  ride  back  at  once." 

As  he  reined  his  horse  into  the  trail  Bridger 
ran  up  to  the  messenger  and  said : 

"Your  nag's  blowed.  Ride  one  of  our  horses 
to  the  fort,  leadin'  t'other  two." 

"Yes,  bring  the  animals  along,"  wearily  mum- 
bled McKenzie  as  he  rode  down  the  trail. 

Bridger  piled  into  the  keelboat  and  beckoned 
Lander  to  follow  him.    Then  he  warned : 

"Now,  young  feller,  you're  going  to  see  some 
real  boating.  It's  twenty-five  miles,  an'  keelboats 
ain't  s'posed  to  run  at  night  except  when  there's 
a  good  moon.  But  we're  going  through — bent 
for  breakfast.  It'll  be  darker'n  the  inside  of  a 
beaver.  We're  going  to  pass  the  fort  in  the  dark 
an'  make  the  Yallerstone  without  being  spotted. 
Now  grab  one  of  them  poles  an'  hump  yourself." 


Chapter  XIV 

BEAVER !      BEAVER ! 

nf^HE  boat  was  fifty  feet  long-  and  twelve  feet 
*  wide,  an  awkward  craft  for  two  men  to 
navigate  even  in  daylight.  With  night  blotting 
out  the  banks  and  concealing  snags  and  bars  it 
seemed  to  Lander  to  be  an  impossible  task.  Yet 
by  the  time  McKenzie  was  galloping  down  the 
river-road  to  investigate  the  murder  of  Phinny 
the  mountain  man  and  his  younger  assistant  had 
pushed  the  boat  into  mid-stream.  Motioning 
Lander  to  take  a  position  on  the  starboard  run- 
way— passe  (want — of  cleats,  Bridger  gave  him 
a  long,  knobbed  pole,  and  standing  opposite  him 
commanded  in  mimicry  of  Etienne  Prevost: 

''A  has  les  perches!" 

Down  went  the  poles  and  the  two  men  began 
pushing  the  boat  from  under  their  feet;  Bridger 
holding  his  efforts  down  to  a  level  with  those  of 
his  inexperienced  companion.     So  long  as  they 

335 


336        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

exerted  an  identical  pressure  the  boat  held  a  true 
course.  With  experienced  river  men  at  the  poles 
there  was  no  need  of  a  man  at  the  tiller.  Strive 
as  he  would,  however,  the  mountain  man  out- 
pushed  his  employee,  and  the  first  time  down  the 
passe  avant  he  was  compelled  to  seize  the  long 
tiller  to  avoid  running  ashore. 

"Three  hours  of  some  sort  of  light,"  he  mused 
as  they  straightened  out  once  more.  "We  ought 
to  make  the  bulk  of  the  distance  in  that  time,  bar- 
ring accidents.  I  don't  want  to  reach  the  fort  till 
it's  good  and  dark.  Now  let's  see  if  I  can't  keep 
even  with  you." 

A  little  practise  on  the  part  of  both,  one  striv- 
ing to  increase  his  motive  power,  the  other  hold- 
ing himself  in  check,  soon  enabled  them  to  keep 
to  mid-channel.  Time  was  lost  at  the  bends  as 
Bridger  was  compelled  to  take  the  tiller  and 
leave  the  current  to  do  the  work. 

Twice  they  ran  on  to  bars,  but  as  the  boat  was 
empty  they  were  soon  afloat.  Almost  all  the 
snags  were  well  inshore  on  either  hand — carried 
and  hung  up  there  by  high  water.  As  the  night 
shut  in  and  the  banks  became  blurred  it  was  diffi- 
cult to  determine  where  the  shadows  ended  and 
the  willow  and  cottonwood  growths  began. 


BEAVER!  BEAVER!  337 

''It's  mostly  luck  from  now  on,"  murmured 
Bridger  as  the  outstretched  claw  of  a  snag  rasped 
against  the  boat.  "You  keep  in  the  bow  to  push 
us  off.     We'll  let  the  current  do  the  work." 

The  hour  was  now  close  to  midnight  and  they 
would  be  passing  the  fort  very  soon. 

Lander  completely  lost  all  sense  of  direction. 
He  was  adrift  on  a  limitless  sea.  There  was  no 
longer  any  such  things  as  shores.  Only  the  sub- 
dued call  of  a  voice  on  the  left  bank  dispelled  this 
illusion  of  infinite  space. 

Bridger  at  the  tiller  softly  signaled  for  him  to 
remain  quiet.  Lander  crawled  back  and  found 
his  patron  lying  on  top  of  the  cargo-bOx. 

"See  or  hear  anything?"  came  the  voice,  sound- 
ing very  close. 

"Too  foggy.  They  must  have  hung  up  till 
mornin'.  Ye  done  gone  an'  let  th'  fire  go  out. 
Yer  fire,  much  as  it  is  mine.  Stop  yappin'  an' 
help  git  it  started  ag'in." 

Bridger  chuckled  and  whispered. 

"McKenzie  has  men  out  to  watch  for  us.  He's 
thought  up  some  game  to  take  the  boat  back. 
That  dark  smooch  up  there  is  Union." 

Lander  rubbed  his  eyes  but  was  unable  to 
locate  the  "smooch."     No  lights  were  burning 


338         KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

in  or  near  the  fort,  and  only  a  mountain  man's 
vision  could  make  out  the  parallelogram  of  stock- 
ade and  buildings. 

'Then  we've  got  by,"  Lander  exulted  under 
his  breath. 

"By  the  fort,"  dryly  agreed  Bridger,  "but  we 
ain't  by  Kenneth  McKenzie  yet.  We've  got  to 
round  the  Point  before  we  can  hit  the  Yaller- 
stone.  We'll  be  there  mighty  soon  now.  That's 
the  danger  place." 

The  Point  was  the  narrow  and  thumb-shaped 
stretch  of  land  formed  by  the  river's  eccentric 
course  in  running  south  to  receive  the  Yellow- 
stone and  then  doubling  back  to  the  north  and 
east.  As  they  neared  the  Point  the  channel  nar- 
rowed; and,  as  Bridger  had  expected,  guards 
were  stationed  there.  Obviously  McKenzie  was 
determined  to  get  the  boat  back. 

"Git  a  light,"  growled  a  voice.  "Why'n  sin 
don't  ye  git  that  fire  started  ?" 

"Wal,  gimme  time/'  was  the  snarling 
rejoinder. 

Bridger  closed  a  hand  on  Lander's  wrist  and 
softly  whispered : 

"We  must  git  by  before  they  start  their  fire." 

The  boat  glided  on.     The  men  on  the  bank 


BEAVER!  BEAVER!  339 

seemed  to  be  within  jumping"  distance.  One  of 
them  tested  his  memory  by  repeating: 

"  *Mr.  McKenzie's  mighty  sorry  but  he  must 
have  th'  boat  to  take  Mr.  Phinny's  dead  body 
down-river/  " 

"  *A11  t'other  boats  bein'  needed  for  company 
work !'  "  sullenly  completed  the  second  voice. 

"Then  we're  to  say  that  if  he  ain't  in  too  much 
of  a  hurry  he  can  have  a  boat  arter  th'  rush  is 
over.  Mebbe  in  a  week  or  ten  days.  I  reckon  I 
can  tote  that  talk  to  th'  Three  Forks  o'  th'  Mis- 
souri an'  fetch  it  back  an'  never  lose  a  word." 

"Shet  yer  trap  an'  open  yer  peepers.  We'll 
soon  be  able  to  see  things." 

This  as  a  tiny  spiral  of  flame  ran  up  a  mass  of 
sun-dried  debris. 

Lander  held  his  breath.  He  could  make  out 
the  forms  of  two  men  armed  with  rifles,  as  they 
passed  between  him  and  the  growing  fire.  The 
blaze  as  yet  was  scarcely  under  way.  Bridger 
sighed  in  deep  content  and  murmured: 

"They'll  be  looking  up-stream.  By  the  time 
the  fire  gits  to  burning  at  a  good  lick  they  can 
look  up  or  down  an'  be  cussed,  so  far  as  we  care. 
'Nother  three  minutes  an'  we'll  be  nosing  into  the 
Yallerstone." 


340        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

!A!s  if  suddenly  desirous  of  serving  Kenneth 
McKenzie  the  fire  flared  up  and  burned  a  broad 
patch  across  the  river.  Lander  believed  they 
would  be  discovered  and  crouched  low  to  escape  a 
bullet.  But  although  the  radius  of  the  light  zone 
rapidly  increased  it  did  not  catch  up  with  the 
receding  boat ;  and  then  again  the  watchers  were 
staring  up-stream.  The  keelboat  was  again  in 
darkness  although  the  fire  was  visible — a  red 
hole  through  a  black  blanket. 

"We  must  do  some  poling/'  said  Bridger. 
"Here's  the  Yallerstone." 

"Where?"  blankly  asked  Lander,  unable  to  see 
anything  once  he  removed  his  gaze  from  the  fire. 

"Can't  you  feel  the  current  pushing  us  to  the 
left?  Work  g-ently.  Sound  carries  like  sin  on 
the  water." 

Lander  worked  with  great  caution,  but  with 
no  intelligence.  He  did  what  his  patron  com- 
manded, but  he  did  it  blindly.  If  not  for  occa- 
sional backward  glances  at  the  fire  he  would  have 
believed  the  boat  was  going  about  in  circles. 
Then  something  snatched  the  fire  from  sight,  and 
Bridger  was  announcing: 

"We've  done  it.  We're  in  the  Yallerstone  now. 
Timber  on  this  south  bank  hides  the  fire  from 


BEAVER!  BEAVER!  341 

us.  A  little  ahead  is  a  bend.  After  we  make  that 
we'll  hide  up  an'  camp,  an',  as  Etienne  says, 
'fumer  la  pipe.' " 

Now  the  work  was  more  strenuous  as  they 
were  fighting  against  the  current.  Again  the 
task  became  purposeless  so  far  as  Lander  could 
observe.  It  consisted  of  nosing  ashore  and  back- 
ing out,  of  blundering  on  to  bars  and  snags  and 
working  clear.    At  last  he  was  driven  to  ask : 

"Do  you  know  where  you  want  to  go  and  how 
near  you  are  to  arriving,  Mr.  Bridger?" 

"We're  already  there,"  assured  Bridger. 
"Work  her  dead  ahead." 

Lander  stood  in  the  stern,  pushing  with  all  his 
strength.  He  heard  the  rustling  of  branches  in 
the  bow  and  finally  felt  a  limb  worrying  his  head. 

"Now  it's  ficmer  la  pipe/'  said  Bridger. 

Lander  reached  out  with  his  pole  and  found 
it  rested  on  the  river  bank. 

"I  reckon  I  could  jump  ashore,"  he  said. 

"Reckon  so,  if  you  didn't  fall  in.  Better 
stretch  out  on  the  cargo-box  an'  git  a  few  feet  of 
sleep." 

Both  were  asleep  when  the  sun  came  up,  but 
were  soon  awake  and  on  the  bank.  The  river  was 
empty.     They  were  above  the  bend  and  snugly 


342         KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

concealed  under  a  rank  spread  of  willow  boughs. 
For  a  considerable  distance  the  course  of  the  river 
could  be  traced  due  south,  and  nowhere  along  its 
lonely  reaches  w^as  there  any  sign  of  the 
bull-boats.  Lander  grew  worried.  Bridger  was 
grave  but  lost  none  of  his  composure.  He  dozed, 
stood  watch,  and  ate  dried  meat  and  never  be- 
trayed any  impatience.  Yet  when  in  the  early 
afternoon  he  detected  a  moving  dot  far  up  the 
river  his  gray  eyes  flashed  and  he  put  up  his  pipe. 

"Some  Indians  from  the  Crow  village  coming 
to  visit  Fort  Union,"  suggested  Lander  in  a  low 
whisper,  as  if  the  newcomer  were  well  within 
hearing. 

"White  man,"  muttered  Bridger.  "Tell  by  the 
way  he  paddles.  Not  very  good  at  the  paddle, 
but  must  have  been  some  time.  Probably  he's  old 
an'  has  been  away  from  it." 

"Papa  Clair?"  exclaimed  Lander,  unable  to 
make  out  anything  except  a  tiny  shape  moving 
toward  them  with  the  current. 

Bridger  made  no  reply  for  half  a  minute,  then 
slowly  informed  the  other: 

"Yes,  It's  Clair.  He's  taking  It  easy,  thank 
the  lord !  Packs  must  be  safe,  or  he  wouldn't  be 
so  perky  an'  yet  so  delib'rate." 


BEAVER!  BEAVER!  343 

Fascinated,  Lander  waited  and  the  dot  became 
a  canoe ;  then  almost  before  he  knew  it  the  canoe 
leaped  from  the  middle  distance  into  the  fore- 
ground, and  there  was  Papa  Clair,  white  hair  and 
white  mustaches  and  his  knife  in  his  belt. 

"Good  day,  Papa  Clair,"  softly  called  out 
Bridger  from  behind  the  willow  screen. 

*' Bon  jour,  m'sieti/'  quietly  returned  Papa 
Clair,  sending  his  canoe  toward  the  hiding-place 
and  picking  up  a  rifle. 

"Bound  to  have  a  fight  with  me,"  saluted 
Bridger,  poking  his  head  into  view.  "Where  are 
the  bull-boats  hid  up?" 

"M'sieu  Bridger!  It  is  good  to  see  you. 
Where  is  my  young  friend  ?  Ah — now  I  see  you, 
my  friend.  Then  all  is  well  with  you.  But  name 
of  a  pipe!  Such  a  bother,  the  boats  of  the  bull! 
They  are  safe.  Let  that  be  your  satisfy.  But 
w^hen  we  have  done  with  them  I  will  rip  them  to 
the  devil  for  being  blind  pigs  and  the  sons  of 
pigs." 

He  passed  under  the  drooping  branches  and 
held  his  canoe  against  the  boat  and  exchanged 
handshakes.  His  trip  down  the  Big  Horn  and 
Yellowstone  with  the  packs  had  been  uneventful 
except  for  the  vicissitudes  of  snags  and  bars  and 


344        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

the  awkwardness  of  his  craft.    He  had  passed  the 
Crow  village  in  the  night  and  seen  no  Indians. 

Five  trappers  had  accompanied  him.  They  had 
arrived  and  gone  into  hiding  early  in  the  morn- 
ing of  this  very  day.  Bridger  in  turn  gave  a 
synopsis  of  his  and  Lander's  adventures,  and  rap- 
idly explained  the  necessity  of  shifting  the  cargo 
and  making  down  the  Missouri  that  night. 

"We  must  be  well  down-stream  by  to-morrow 
morning,"  he  concluded.  "We  will  stay  here  till 
dusk,  then  pole  up  to  the  packs.  You  go  back  an' 
fetch  a  couple  men  to  help  pole.  It  must  be  done 
in  a  rush.  An'  fetch  along  some  grub.  Lander 
seems  to  have  a  delicate  stomach." 

"I  go.  The  men  are  impatient  to  hunt  along 
the  shore.  One  of  them  swore  he  would  go  and 
I  had  to  show  him  my  pet  knife  to  hold  his  inter- 
ests to  our  little  camp.    God  is  good !" 

With  another  handshake,  especially  warm  to 
Lander,  he  pushed  from  under  the  willows  and 
paddled  up-stream.  Bridger  yawned  and  went 
to  sleep.  Lander  kept  awake,  nervously  anticipat- 
ing the  night's  work  and  feverishly  crossing  many 
bridges  of  risks  and  disappointments. 

Success  meant  seeing  Susette.  He  pictured 
Kenneth  McKenzie  as  the  great  obstacle  between 


BEAVER!  BEAVER!  345 

him  and  the  home-going.  He  could  not  imagine 
that  gentleman  remaining  inactive.  The  failure 
of  the  keelboat  to  arrive  at  the  fort  was  sure  to 
cause  all  sorts  of  suspicions.  The  Indians  would 
be  sent  to  scout  the  country  for  it. 

The  conversation  of  the  men  on  guard  at  the 
Point  revealed  that  McKenzie  was  determined  to 
take  the  boat  back  and  would  urge  an  absurd 
excuse  in  order  to  succeed.  The  distance  between 
Lander  and  the  girl  in  St.  Louis  lengthened  and 
stretched  out  during  the  afternoon  until  it  seemed 
as  if  the  whole  world  were  between  them. 

Lander  succeeded  in  dozing  off  only  to  be 
aroused  by  the  arrival  of  Papa  Clair  and  two 
trappers.  They  brought  a  huge  piece  of  cooked 
cow-meat  and  a  bag  of  salt.  Bridger  joined  Lan- 
der in  a  ravenous  attack  on  the  food.  As  they  ate 
Papa  Qair  signaled  for  silence.  He  pointed 
down-stream,  and  Bridger  crept  to  his  side  and 
beheld  a  canoe  following  the  opposite  bank.  In 
it  were  two  men,  one  white,  the  other  an  Indian. 

"McKenzie's  clerk  an'  a  Assiniboin,"  muttered 
Bridger.  "Sent  to  search  the  river,  but  they 
seem  to  be  half-hearted." 

"Behold !    They  grow  weary,  they  turn  back !" 

"Saves  us  catching  an'  holding  'em  till  we  can 


346        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

git  away,"  said  Bridger.  "After  they  make  the 
bend  we'll  start  for  the  bull-boats.  No  more 
scouts  will  come  up  here  now ;  they're  going  back 
to  report." 

The  canoe  dropped  down-stream  and  quickly 
disappeared  around  the  bend.  After  waiting  ten 
or  fifteen  minutes  Papa  Clair's  canoe  was  fast- 
ened to  the  keelboat  and  the  men  quickly  poled  it 
up-stream  and  into  an  eddy. 

Bridger  held  council  and  selected  two  to  make 
the  trip  as  far  as  Fort  Pierre.  The  others  were 
directed  to  return  to  the  Greene  as  soon  as  they 
had  worked  the  keelboat  out  of  the  Yellowstone 
and  into  the  Missouri. 

"I'm  going  back  to  the  fort  to  give  a'  order  for 
the  boat  an'  sell  the  two  horses,"  he  explained. 
"Papa  Clair  will  be  boss  here.  When  it  gits  dark 
you'll  run  down  into  the  Missouri  for  'bout  a  mile 
an'  a  half  where  the  big  island  is.  Lay  up  there 
till  I  come.  I'm  going  there  now  in  the  canoe,  an' 
I  shall  hide  the  canoe  on  the  bank.  Papa  Clair, 
if  I'm  not  there  by  midnight  you're  to  strike  for 
Pierre,  keeping  all  the  men  with  you." 

With  a  nod  to  Lander  he  stepped  into  the  canoe 
and  with  sturdy  strokes  sped  down  the  river. 
Striking  into  the  Missouri,  he  crossed  to  the  north 


BEAVER!  BEAVER!  347 

shore  and  held  on  until  he  came  to  the  island, 
abreast  of  which  Fort  William  was  to  stand  two 
years  later  in  brief  opposition  to  Fort  Union. 

The  channel  between  the  island  and  the  river 
bank  was  narrow,  and  a  few  strokes  of  the  paddle 
sent  the  canoe  ashore.  Fort  Union  was  a  little 
less  than  three  miles  away.  Striking  north, 
Bridger  made  a  wide  detour  until  he  was  above 
the  fort  and  on  the  river. 

It  was  now  at  the  edge  of  dusk,  and  he  knew 
the  keelboat  would  be  descending  the  Yellowstone 
within  an  hour.  He  hoped  his  presence  at  the 
fort  would  concentrate  and  hold  McKenzie's  at- 
tention to  him  and  that  the  search  for  the  keel- 
boat  would  slow  up.  Almost  as  soon  as  he  came 
up  the  bank  from  the  river  and  entered  the  river- 
road  he  was  quickly  spied  by  one  of  the  clerks. 
The  young  man  was  astonished  at  seeing  him, 
and  gasped :  "Mr.  Bridger!  Why,  we've  been — 
Why,  Mr.  Bridger!  That  is,  Mr.  McKenzie  was 
hoping  you'd  show  up.    Where's  the  boat  ?" 

"Ashore,"  sternly  replied  Bridger.  "I've  come 
afoot  to  see  your  boss." 

He  walked  on,  exhibiting  no  desire  for  the 
clerk's  company;  and  the  latter,  glad  to  be  free, 
ran  ahead  to  give  the  news  to  his  irate  employer. 


348        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

When  Bridger  passed  through  the  gate  he  walked 
with  a  slight  limp,  as  if  lame  from  travel. 

McKenzie,  on  the  southwest  bastion  balcony, 
saw  him  approaching  and  hastened  out  to  greet 
him.  His  shrewd  gaze  took  account  of  the  limp 
and  the  downcast  expression  on  Bridger's  face. 

'The  boat  got  ashore,  the  clerk  tells  me,"  said 
McKenzie  in  a  soothing  voice.  "Too  bad.  Too 
bad.  I  wanted  you  to  let  my  men  fetch  it  down, 
you  know.  Too  much  for  two  men  to  do  alone 
and  in  the  night.  Must  have  grounded  quite  a 
ways  up-stream." 

He  f rov/ned  slightly,  unable  to  understand  how 
his  men  had  failed  to  find  the  boat  after  scouring 
both  sides  of  the  river  almost  to  the  boat-yard. 

"You  couldn't  have  more'n  got  started." 

"Quite  a  ways,"  sighed  Bridger,  lifting  a  leg 
and  tenderly  feeling  his  ankle.  "But  I'm  here  to 
give  you  an  order  on  the  Rocky  Mountain  Fur 
Company  for  the  boat  an'  to  sell  you  the  two 
horses." 

"Come  inside,"  invited  McKenzie,  turning  to 
the  bastion.  "I  want  to  talk  with  you.  Do  you 
mind  coming  up  to  the  balcony  ?  I've  been  watch- 
ing for  Jacob  Berger.  He  and  the  Blackfeet 
should  be  getting  along  before  now.     I'm  afraid 


BEAVER!  BEAVER!  349 

of  old  Gauche.  He  wouldn't  move  his  camp 
down  here.  Promised  he  would,  but  he  hasn't 
showed  up.  I  promised  him  twenty  new  guns 
and  ten  kegs  of  liquor  if  he  wouldn't  have  any 
trouble  with  the  Blackfeet  until  after  they'd 
fetched  me  their  trade.    Slippery  old  rascal ! 

"But  about  the  boat.  I  hate  like  the  devil  to 
back  out  of  a  bargain,  but  I  need  that  boat  to  take 
Malcom  Phinny's  body  down-river.  He  stands 
high  in  St.  Louis  with  the  A.  F.  C.  and  with  the 
people  of  the  city '* 

"Bah!"  broke  in  Bridger  in  huge  disgust. 
"You  just  stick  that  young  devil  up  in  a  tree  to  dry 
same's  you  would  a'  Injun  an'  send  his  carcass 
down-river  when  your  steamer  comes  along.  He 
betrayed  my  man  Lander  into  the  hands  of  the 
Blackfeet ;  he  killed  my  man  Porker.  He  an'  old 
Deschamps  planned  to  murder  Lander  the  min- 
ute they  I'amed  he  was  at  the  rendezvous." 

"I  don't  believe  it!" 

"Careful,  Mr.  McKenzie.  Me,  Jim  Bridger, 
says  it.  An'  I  don't  accuse  any  man  till  I  know. 
Phinny  was  worse'n  a'  Injun.  The  A.  F.  C.  don't 
owe  him  any  partic'lar  attention." 

"It's  hard  for  me  to  believe  it,"  corrected  Mc- 
Kenzie, his  face  flushing.    In  truth  he  never  had 


3SO        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

had  the  slightest  suspicion  that  Phinny  was  carry- 
ing on  any  campaign  of  hate  against  Lander. 

"Of  course  it's  hard  for  you  to  beHeve  it  until 
I  say  it's  a  fact,  but  it's  true.  Even  if  he  didn't 
take  naturally  to  murdering,  why  such  a  hurry  to 
git  his  dead  body  down-river  when  you've  already 
told  headquarters  the  steamboat  will  let  you  keep 
live  men  up  here  an'  pay  'em  off  in  goods  at  the 
reg'lar  Injun-trade  profit? 

"Mr.  McKenzie,  I'm  keeping  the  boat.  The 
bargain's  made  an'  you'll  stick  to  it." 

"I'll  stick  to  it  when  I  know  what  you  want 
that  boat  for,"  retorted  McKenzie.  "I'm  some- 
thing more  than  a  trader  up  here.  I'm  called  the 
King  of  the  Missouri,  perhaps  you'll  remember. 
I'm  not  only  responsible  to  the  A.  F.  C.  for  what 
goes  on  up  here,  but  I'm  also  responsible  to  the 
United  States  government." 

"Was  you  responsible  to  the  United  States 
government  when  you  set  up  your  distillery?" 
asked  Bridger  with  a  grin. 

"That  was  to  conduct  scientific  experiments 
with  our  natural  fruits  and  berries,"  McKenzie 
haughtily  replied.  "The  government  is  perfectly 
satisfied,  and  that  matter  is  ended." 

"An'  the  still  is  bu'sted  up,"  added  Bridger. 


BEAVER!  BEAVER!  351 

"Why,  every  one  knows  how  Pierre  Chouteau, 
Jr.,  worked  his  head  off  in  getting  Senator  Ben- 
ton to  fix  it  so  the  A.  F.  C.  wouldn't  lose  its 
license.  It  took  every  ounce  of  power  an'  influ- 
ence Old  Bullion  had  at  that  to  straighten  it  out. 

"Now  youVe  'lowed  by  your  words  that  I'm 
doing  something  I  hadn't  oughter.  I'm  waiting 
for  you  to  take  them  words  back." 

McKenzie  bit  his  lips,  then  smiled  graciously 
and  declared :  "Jim  Bridger,  I  never  accused  you 
of  any  wrong-doing.  You're  going  to  be  one  of 
us  some  time.  But  as  King  of  the  Missouri  I 
must  keep  an  eye  on  things." 

"A  King  of  the  Missouri.  I'm  a  King  of  the 
Missouri  too,"  said  Bridger.  "So  is  Jim  Baker 
an'  Etienne  Prevost  an'  Papa  Clair  an'  a  whole 
herd  of  others.  Now  we'll  make  out  an  order  for 
that  boat  an'  I'll  sell  you  the  two  horses." 

"I  refuse  to  sell  the  boat,"  stiffly  decided  Mc- 
Kenzie. "Whenever  I  find  it  I  shall  seize  it ;  and 
I  do  not  care  to  buy  your  horses." 

"I  don't  give  a  hang  'bout  the  horses ;  but  the 
boat's  mine.  If  you  won't  take  an  order  on  the 
Rocky  Mountain  Fur  Company  then  I'll  credit  it 
against  what  the  A.  F.  C.  owes  me  for  the  robes 
I  traded  to  Phinny.     I'll  trade  my  horses  to  old 


352        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

Gauche.  He  thinks  I'm  prime  medicine.  Reckon 
ril  put  a  winter  man  with  him.     He'd  do  well." 

"If  you'll  agree  not  to  put  a  winter  man  in 
with  Gauche  you  can  have  the  boat  for  four  hun- 
dred dollars  and  I'll  take  the  horses,"  growled 
McKenzie. 

"You  ain't  losing  a  penny  on  that  boat,"  sol- 
emnly declared  Bridger.  "Boat  prices  have  gone 
up  mighty  smart.  So's  the  price  on  horses. 
We'll  call  the  horses  two  hundred  apiece.  That 
squares  off  the  boat  an'  saves  bookkeeping.  Got 
Deschamps  yet?" 

"No.  My  men  are  after  Deschamps  now.  If 
they'd  been  at  hand  you  might  have  decided  you 
didn't  want  the  boat.  If  Gardepied  is  with  the 
Blackfeet  I'll  send  him  after  Deschamps." 

"Here  comes  some  one  in  a  hurry.  Probably 
bringing  word  that  they've  found  Deschamps," 
said  Bridger,  pointing  to  a  man  riding  furiously 
toward  the  stockade  gate  from  the  river-road. 

McKenzie  quit  the  balcony  and  ran  down  the 
stairs  with  Bridger  close  behind  him.  The  new- 
comer rode  into  the  stockade  as  McKenzie  ran 
from  the  bastion.  One  glance  and  Bridger 
dodged  behind  a  group  of  clerks  and  edged  to- 
ward the  gate. 


BEAVER!  BEAVER!  353 

"Kenneth  McKenzie!"  cried  the  horseman, 
leaping  from  his  animal  and  glaring  wildly  about. 

"Yes,  yes,  Berger!  Here  I  am.  Mr.  Bridger 
and  I  were  on  the  balcony  and  saw  you  coming." 

"Bridger?"  gasped  Berger.  "So  he  knew 
enough  to  fetch  the  forty  packs  of  beaver  he  got 
from  the  Blackfeet  to  you  'stead  of  tryin'  to  git 
'em  down  to  St.  Louis.  It's  a  fine  trade  even  if 
ye  do  have  to  give  some  presents  to  the  Black- 
feet — to  them  what's  left,  anyway." 

"Forty   packs    of   beaver!   !     That's   the 

answer  to  the  keelboat!"  yelled  McKenzie. 
"Where's  Bridger?  He  was  here  a  second  ago. 
Find  him,  you  idiots !  Don't  let  him  get  away  in 
that  A.  F.  C.  keelboat!" 

But  by  this  time  Bridger  was  through  the  gate 
and  running  along  the  western  stockade  to  make 
the  woods  at  the  north. 

"Forty  packs  of  beaver,  and  the  A.  F.  C.  kindly 
letting  him  have  a  boat  to  take  them  down-river !" 
moaned  McKenzie. 

"There's  something  else  to  worry  'bout,  Mr. 
McKenzie,"  panted  Berger,  staggering  to  him 
and  clutching  his  arm.  "I'm  wounded  an'  can't 
talk  a  whale  of  a  lot.  That  cussed  old  p'isoner  of 
a  Gauche  had  his  men  fire  into  th'  Blackfoot 


354        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

lodges  two  hours  ago.  Killed  a  heap  of  warriors 
an'  got  away  with  three  hundred  ponies.  It  ain't 
no  time  to  talk  'bout  Bridger's  beaver  packs  un- 
less ye  wanter  lose  th'  Blackfoot  trade." 

While  McKenzie  was  confronting  this  new 
problem  Bridger  was  making  the  best  of  the  dusk 
and  the  confusion  in  the  fort  to  reach  a  point 
where  it  would  be  safe  to  turn  his  course  toward 
the  island.  He  assumed  that  all  the  hubbub  inside 
the  stockade  had  resulted  from  McKenzie's  dis- 
covery of  his  plans.  So  he  spared  himself  none 
in  racing  to  the  concealed  canoe.  He  believed  the 
search  for  him  would  be  up  the  river,  as  he  had 
arrived  from  that  direction. 

An  hour  later  he  was  hiding  on  the  up-stream 
tip  of  the  island  and  answering  a  low  signal  out 
on  the  water.  Ten  minutes  passed  and  Papa 
Clair  was  softly  announcing:  "We  arrive, 
M'sieu  Bridger.  Holy  blue,  but  your  medicine 
was  strong  to  let  you  go  to  the  fort  and  return." 

"All  the  men  except  two  take  this  canoe  an' 
hustle  back  up  the  Yallerstone,"  cried  Bridger. 
"Berger's  come  with  his  Blackfeet  an'  they  may 
strike  for  home  through  the  Crow  country,  an' 
it's  best  for  you  men  to  have  a  big  start  of  'em. 
An'  keep  humping.     Now  we'll  travel." 


Chapter  XV 

SUSETTE  IN  THE  GARDEK 

¥T  WAS  Lander*s  second  visit  to  the  American 
^  Fur  Company's  office  within  two  hours.  He 
had  arrived  that  morning  and  had  lost  no  time  in 
presenting  the  order,  only  to  find  Parker  was  not 
down  yet.  He  walked  to  the  levee  and  watched 
Etienne  Prevost  superintend  the  removal  of  the 
beaver  packs  to  the  Washington  Avenue  store. 

"Mr.  Parker  isn't  here,  and  won't  be  here  to- 
day," the  clerk  informed  him  on  this  second  call. 
"He's  sick.  Say,  Mr.  Lander,  the  whole  town's 
talking  about  your  beaver.  Prevost  said  you  was 
to  get  ten  thousand  for  yourself.  Mr.  Bridger 
must  be  a  mighty  nice  feller  to  work  for." 

"He's  the  best  there  ever  was,"  fervently 
declared  Lander,  thrilled  to  have  even  a  clerk 
"mister"  him. 

Incidentally  the  town's  gossip  about  his  ten- 
thousand-dollar    bonus    was    correct,    although 

355 


356        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

Bridger  could  have  claimed  all  for  the  Rocky 
Mountain  Fur  Company  after  paying  the  Hudson 
Bay  Company  its  ten  per  cent.,  or  four  thousand 
dollars. 

"He  told  me  back  in  the  mountains  he  would 
do  right  by  me.  He's  done  better  than  that. 
After  saving  me  from  Indian  torture  he  didn't 
need  to  make  me  any  present.  If  Mr.  Bridger 
wants  me  to  skin  a  skunk  I'm  ready  for  the  job. 
I'll  call  to-morrow  about  the  order " 

"Hold  on!"  cried  the  clerk,  grinning  sheep- 
ishly. "I  got  excited  over  your  good  luck — ^just 
a  plain  fool,  I  am.  I  sent  a  boy  to  Mr.  Parker 
after  your  first  visit.  He  sent  back  word  for 
you  to  bring  the  order  to  him.  If  it's  all  right 
he'll  O.  K.  it  and  you  can  put  it  in  the  bank." 

"Why  didn't  you  say  so?"  snapped  Lander, 
darting  from  the  office  and  hurrying  to  the  Pine 
Street  house. 

His  heart  threatened  to  choke  him  as  he 
entered  the  yard  and  mounted  the  porch  and 
rang.  His  eyes  were  blurred  and  he  felt  faint  as 
the  door  slowly  opened.  He  expected  to  behold 
Susette.     Instead  it  was  a  maid. 

Without  a  word  she  motioned  him  to  enter  and 
go  into  a  room  off  the  hall.     Again  his  heart 


SUSETTE  IN  THE  GARDEN        357 

played  him  tricks,  but  on  entering  the  room  he 
found  only  Parker.  He  was  reclining  in  a  chair 
and  was  scowling  villainously. 

"Show  me  that  order,"  Parker  growled. 
"Don't  stand  there  like  an  idiot.  Have  you  an 
order  on  the  A.  F.  C,  or  haven't  you?" 

Without  a  word  Lander  presented  it.  Parker 
frowned  over  it,  grunted  several  times,  then 
endorsed  it  and  handed  it  back  and  demanded: 

"Why  didn't  you  bring  it  here  at  once  when 
you  heard  I  was  laid  up?  Loafing  round  town 
and  enjoying  your  reputation  for  being  a  moun- 
tain man,  eh?  Pushing  your  smug  face  round 
for  people  to  admire  while  your  boss'  business 
was  sliding  to  the  dogs." 

"You  forget  I  wasn't  to  come  here  till  I  was 
asked,"  Lander  answered,  his  face  dismal  with 
disappointment.  All  the  down-river  day-dreams 
were  dead.    His  medicine  was  weak  and  foolish. 

"What  about  your  getting  a  big  batch  of 
beaver?"  sneered  Parker. 

"Jim  Bridger  pulled  me  and  forty  packs  out  of 
a  Blackfoot  camp.  I  take  no  credit  for  that,"  he 
wearily  replied. 

Then  with  a  sudden  flash  of  spirit: 

"But  I  did  help  Mr.  Bridger  bring  them  from 


358        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

Fort  Union  in  a  keelboat  we  got  from  Mr.  Mc- 
Kenzie.  I  am  a  little  bit  proud  of  that.  Your 
whole  Upper  Missouri  outfit  tried  to  stop  us  and 
couldn't.    Now  I'll  be  going  along.'' 

"Stop,  you  idiot!"  thundered  Parker,  and 
Lander  wheeled  expecting  to  be  attacked.  "You 
and  your  twopenny  reputation!  Want  to  get 
back  down-town  and  have  folks  point  you  out,  eh  ? 
You  a  mountain  man !    Why,  you  young  pup — " 

"That's  enough,"  choked  Lander.  "I  may 
never  be  a  mountain  man,  but  I'm  done  standing 
your  abuse,  sir." 

"Then  what'n  the  devil  you  hanging  round 
here  for?  Huh?  Eh?  Get  out,  you  impudent 
cub.  Hi!  Not  that  way.  Out  the  back  way, 
same's  the  servants  do." 

Pale  with  passion,  yet  compelling  himself  to 
remember  it  was  a  sick  man  and  Susette's  father. 
Lander  persisted  in  making  for  the  front  door. 
Again  Parker's  voice  called  profanely  after  him 
and  added : 

"The  other  way !    She's  in  the  garden." 

An  hour  passed  before  they  began  their  return 
to  earth. 

"Your  father  was  so  queer.     I  don't  under- 


'SUSETTE  IN  THE  GARDEN       359 

stand  it,"  said  Lander.  "I'm  sure  he  sent  me 
here.  He  said  you  were  here.  But  he  talked  to 
me  something —    Well,  never  mind." 

"I've  been  rather  disagreeable  to  father  since 
you*  went  away,"  she  cooed,  snuggling  closer.  "I 
wouldn't  eat  anything — when  he  was  around. 
Then  that  funny  Etienne  Prevost  was  up  here 
this  morning  and  talked  with  him.  Their  swear- 
ing was  something  terrible  at  first. 

"Then  father  calmed  down  and  let  Prevost 
deliver  a  message  Mr.  Bridger  sent  by  him.  The 
message  was  all  about  you,  and  father  must  have 
listened  with  both  ears.  He  thinks  Mr.  Bridger 
is  awfully  smart: 

"But  they  were  such  horrible  things  about  you 
I  couldn't  believe  a  word,  of  course.  Killing 
people  with  knives !  As  if  my  darling  would  ever 
do  that!  But  it  was  just  the  kind  of  stuff  to 
please  father.  My  maid  listened  at  the  keyhole 
like  a  little  cat,  and  came  and  told  me.  Probably 
she  made  most  of  it  up.  But  such  awful  stories, 
dearest!  Still  they  pleased  father,  for  I  heard 
him  chuckling  after  Mr.  Prevost  had  gone. 

"When  he  saw  you  coming  he  told  me  to  come 
out  here.  I  told  him  I  was  his  daughter  but  that 
I  must  and  would  see  you,  and  he  said  it  would 


36o        KINGS  OF  THE  MISSOURI 

look  better  if  you  did  the  chasing.  He  hurt  my 
pride  terribly.  But  I  knew  he  would  send  you  to 
me  and  I  felt  better.  And  you  are  really  and 
truly  my  King  of  the  Missouri !" 

"No,  no,"  cried  Lander.  "I'm  hardly  fit  to 
rank  as  a  common  soldier  of  the  Missouri." 

"A  Prince  of  the  Missouri,  anyway — I'm  par- 
tial to  princes.  And  I  like  the  way  you  wear 
your  hair  over  your  shoulders.  Naughty !  Hold 
still.  It's  my  ribbon,  you  know.  A  prince  should 
feel  very  proud  to  wear  his  lady's  ribbon.  Now 
you  must  come  and  let  father  see  you  in  the  new 
ribbon ....  Now  I  know  you  don't  love  me !" 

THE  END 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 

Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


2ih>d3^ 


RCCD  LD 


5/!l^^^A  tARBARA 
INTEauSRAR-Y  WPAH 


JUN 


fs^M-^^^ 


-WBSi 


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JUL  2  7  7« 


LD  2lA-60m-4,'64 
(E4555sl0)476B 


General  Library     , 
University  of  California 
Berkeley 


ye  31782 


